All Was Well
by SarRansom
Summary: A series of snapshots detailing the important life events of the Potter and Weasley families following the Battle of Hogwarts. Focusing on Harry and Ginny, with regular appearances from their family and friends.
1. Chapter 1 - Twenty Four Hours

Welcome to my latest story. Rather than a traditional, multi-chapter fic, _All Was Well_ will be more in the style of a series of one shots capturing the important moments in the lives of the Potter and Weasley families after the Battle of Hogwarts.

As you read, please take note of dates, as we will likely skip weeks, months or even years at a time. This first piece, _Twenty Four Hours,_ is a repost of a one-shot I first published quite a while ago. If you have already read it, it's really not necessary to re-read it, but please subscribe to the story alert if you wish to read subsequent posts.

I have no update schedule for this, I'm simply writing as inspiration strikes. In saying that, the first several chapters have already been written and aside from some polishing, are ready to go. Please keep in mind I currently do not have a beta, all mistakes are mine and if the occasional grammar mistake frustrates you, you may want to look elsewhere for reading material.

The name for this fic comes from the final line of J.K's universe. Each chapter will have a different rating and genre, please pay attention to the announcement at the start of each chapter, particularly if you're sensitive to particular themes.

Our first installment: Twenty Four Hours, takes place immediately after the conclusion of the Battle of Hogwarts. A tissue warning may be appropriate.

Name: Twenty Four Hours

Date: May 3, 1998

Rating: K+

Genre: Angst/Hurt-Comfort

**Twenty Four Hours**

"_**Grieving is a necessary passage and a difficult transition to finally letting go of sorrow – it is not a permanent rest stop."**_

**Dodinsky**

Harry blinked several times as consciousness slowly returned to him. The dormitory was dark and quiet, save for the steady resonance of Neville's snores, and Harry puzzled for a moment as to exactly what had woken him. He was warm and comfortable, the four-poster bed, with it's familiar scarlet hangings and warm cotton sheets was just as welcoming as Harry remembered it. The entire situation prompted sleep, deep, dreamless and welcome sleep, but to Harry, sleeping any longer seemed like a remote possibility.

His muscles ached, and not just the well rested throb that came from hours of immobile sleep. He was cramped and tense, his long-abused limbs protesting every move he made. Though it wasn't just his muscles that throbbed, shooting pains stabbed threw his ribs with every breath he took, his burns, both the ones from the dragon at Gringott's and those from the Fiendfyre that Crabbe had conjured in the Room of Requirement, throbbed uncomfortably, sticky and hot. His head pounded, not from his formerly constantly painful scar, but from every angle, as if it had shrunk. Months of living rough had taken it's toll on Harry, months that were only just now catching up with him.

But the true pain, the pain that was so agonising that Harry fought to keep from crying out, was buried deep somewhere in his chest, suffocating him from the inside out. It was the pain of conflicting emotions and the pain of extraordinary loss. One part of Harry was singing for joy in a way he had never experienced before in his life, because he was free. For the first time in his life he was free to be his own person, no oppressive aunt and uncle dictating his every move, but most significantly, no Lord Voldemort managing to impact his life every year since Harry had discovered the wizarding world. Never again would he have to live in fear, to look behind him with every step, to leave where he was comfortable and happy, to leave the people that made him feel that way, to do what was best, what he had to do. His life was his own again, to do with it whatever he wanted, to _live. _But Harry's happiness was lost in the vastness of his grief, and the grief that was shared among those he loved. The toll from the battle, and indeed from the war itself, had been immense. The grief that the day before had been muffled by Harry's sheer exhaustion ,was presenting itself with a vengeance, and that he himself had been prepared to die did not spare him any guilt. The sure knowledge that he couldn't have done anything any sooner to end the battle and the war did not disperse the guilt that surely, surely he could have done something, _anything,_ to save the lives of Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin and so, so many others. So much loss, such pain, that in the darkness of the dormitory, Harry felt as though it could consume him.

Harry groped for his glasses on the small bedside table beside him, finding the cool frames he shoved them onto his face, a custom engrained through years of practice of this very same ritual. Harry squinted through the dark in search of the watch that had once been Fabian Prewett's. Only a few crumbs remained on the plate that had many hours earlier been stacked high with sandwiches courtesy of Kreacher. The pitcher of pumpkin juice was still half full however, allowing Harry to fill his goblet and drink greedily, his parched throat savouring every drop of moisture. Finally his hands came into contact with his wrist watch, and purely out of habit, he slipped it onto his wrist. He peered at the time in the half darkness, it was the very early hours of Saturday morning; he'd been asleep for sixteen hours. It was seventeen hours since he'd laid the Elder Wand in the hands of his beloved former headmaster and eighteen since he'd escaped the ministrations of Madam Pomfrey. Twenty three hours had past since the death of the mortal Tom Riddle.

The quiet and stillness of the dormitory was suddenly just as suffocating as the pain, so, as quietly as he could, lest to disturb the others, Harry swung his sore and protesting legs out of bed, stretching as he stood. Silently he padded into the bathroom, surprised by the sudden rush of affection he felt for whomever it was had left a clean set of his clothes beside the tub. Without wasting time he set the water running, as hot and strong as he could bare it, shed the clothes he'd been wearing for at least sixty hours previously and stepped under the constant stream of the water. Harry lost himself in the steam created by the hot water, unable to think, instead just enjoying the effects the pounding water had on his aching muscles and limbs until he was dizzy from heat. Staggering out Harry snatched up his wand from where he had left it on the basin and muttered an _Aguamenti _charm, dousing his face with cold water, until he was spluttering from it's reviving effects. Harry dried himself and dressed slowly, still aware of the soreness that wrecked his body. He inspected the grazes and burns that Madam Pomfrey had been unable to totally do away with, that had to be treated with the thick cream she had given him, if only he could remember where he had left it before he had climbed into bed so many hours before.

As the steam in the bathroom began to clear, Harry had the opportunity to examine his own reflection, something he had not had the opportunity to do in what felt like a very long time. He was skinnier then he had been in many years, ever since first coming to Hogwarts', his cheeks were hollowed, his collar bones prominent against his pasty skin, skin which shone with the unhealthy pallor of someone who had existed in less than ideal conditions for longer than one should. Perhaps most obviously was his hair, in all his life it had never needed cutting so badly, he pushed it impatiently out of his eyes as his reflection stared back at him, it seemed trivial that such things should still continue, the growth of hair and the weight loss associated with living rough, when so many lay, unseeing, unchanging and unreturning several stories below him in the Great Hall.

It was almost dawn Harry noticed as he stepped quietly back into the dormitory and took in the still sleeping figures of his roommates. The dormitory had been empty when he had finally been allowed to collapse into his bed so many hours previously, yet he hadn't heard his former classmates come in to go to bed. Regardless, he had obviously had more sleep than they had, so rather than risk waking them by staying, Harry found his shoes and crept down the spiral staircase.

The common room was empty and just as silent as the dormitory above it. The fire lay extinguished to one side, people's possessions lay scattered throughout the room, obviously abandoned in their haste to leave, but neither those, nor the extremely comfortable couches and seats were enough to keep his interest inside the walls of the common room.

The corridors leading from Gryffindor tower down to the Entrance Hall made it hard to believe that Hogwarts had sustained any damage at all. They looked exactly as Harry imagined they would look in the very early hours of a Saturday morning, with no sign that anything momentous or spectacular had occurred within them the night before.

Unfortunately that only served to increase Harry's shock when he reached the third landing of the castle and saw just how damaging the battle had been.

Walls lay splintered and crumbling before Harry's eyes, exposing even the inner most corridors to the cool morning outside. Portraits lay slashed, their glass cracked and their frames bent, their occupants long since gone. The suits of armor that had for so long stood stoic in the corridors lay damaged and broken on the ground, alongside the statues that had served beside them. It made a devastating picture and to Harry, who had always seen the strength and fortitude of Hogwarts as indestructible, the desolation of what had once been magnificent struck him almost as hard as any of the deaths of those who had fought.

Unable to stand it, Harry fled through the Entrance Hall, sucking in deep, calming breaths as soon as he stepped into the half light of the pre-dawn. The pain in his chest seemed to be getting heavier with every step he took, aching for release. The weight in his chest was incredible, it pressed down upon him, restricting his breathing, climbing into his throat so he could barely swallow against it. But still he ignored it, his feet carrying him further into the grounds as he steadfastly kept his back to the damaged castle, only moving forward.

Harry stopped when he realized where his feet had carried him. This hadn't been his intended destination, but in reality, it was exactly where he needed to be. He had only left seventeen hours previously, but his visit then had been brief, too consumed by exhaustion, grief and elation in equal measures, Harry had simply laid the wand that so many had died for in the aged hands of his former headmaster and mentor before retreating as quickly as he could. He had seen enough death for one day and the Elder Wand was back with it's rightful master, where it could do no more harm, his final duty had been done and finally, he'd be allowed to rest. Yet now he was back here and the more Harry thought of it (and he was finding it more than impossible to turn off his thoughts) he and Professor Dumbledore still had unfinished matters to discuss. Though Dumbledore had answered so many of his questions in that dreamlike existence Harry had momentarily entered into (an occurrence he was still at odds with, still unable to hypothesize whether the conversation had been a very vivid delusion, caused by his brain conjuring up what he needed to hear most at the time to force him not to give up the fight or perhaps, real, some element of magic that he had yet to fully discover), he found it was now up to him, to answer Dumbledore's questions, or at least, even if only to put his own mind at rest, to let his mentor know, that despite what he had deemed his own mistakes, or perhaps because of them, everything had turned out for the best, or as good as it could be, for no war was ever without it's casualties.

The end result remained and it was one Harry would try his best to focus on, Lord Voldemort was no more and he never would be again.

"It's over," he said simply, his voice croaky and harsh from lack of use. "We did it. He's gone. Though I expect you already know it, I had to tell you. I know…" Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably as the pressure in his chest ebbed into windpipe, making it quiet impossible for him to breathe, let alone talk. "….I know you will have been there to greet them all. Remus and Tonks, Fred, Colin, all the others, just like I'm here, greeting the ones that loved them."

"It's not fair," Harry surprised himself by whispering. "Not fair that so many had to die, not fair that the toll had to be so great. But I need you to know, I don't blame you…for not telling me. I could never have gone on if I had have known earlier. You knew me so well, better than I know myself I think. I never could have been rid of him without everything you taught me. We all owe you, so much," he laid his hand on the rough surface of the rock as he contemplated his next words. "And I need….Snape to know, that I understand, I know what he did for me and I'm grateful. I hope he's found some peace, finally, I hope he's with my mum, and that maybe he and dad can finally settle some of their differences," a weary chuckle that was at odd's with his heaving chest escaped Harry's lips, he had said what he needed to say and now the pain buried within him would not let him remain any longer. He lay his hand on the cool marble of his headmaster's tomb. "Thank you. Rest well old friend."

Dawn was approaching, the golden sun slowly creeping over the canopy of trees that was the Forbidden Forrest, bathing the devastated grounds of Hogwarts in a dim light, throwing into relief the damaged walls of the enchanted castle, the gardens that had been trampled underfoot and as Harry walked, horrific memories of only a day before flooded back to him. This was where he had seen Neville and Oliver carrying Colin Creevey's little body, the pain in his chest increased at the memory of his younger friend's broken body, and just further on was where he had heard the anguished cries of those he loved upon seeing his dead body. Harry stopped, his legs weak, his whole body shaking at the memory, the pain in his chest suffocating him as he remembered the screamed denial he had heard from Professor McGonagall, Ron, Hermione…Ginny.

His legs shook beneath him and he gritted his teeth against the urge to sink to his knees, resolutely plowing on, fighting against the urge to cry out, fighting to keep the pain in his chest from overcoming him. Harry's eyes cast to the spot where he had paused on his way to hand himself over to Voldemort, his chest thudded uncomfortably, the spot where he had seen Ginny, comforting a young girl, a talisman to guide him on his way to his death. How he had yearned to stop, to take her in his arms, to kiss her until he forgot everything, forgot about Voldemort, about the war, about his dead friends, to kiss her until he forgot his own name. His heart thudded in a different way to the uncomfortable pounding he had grown used to…

Still he kept walking, pressing on, until he caught sight of something he had not seen when he had run out of the castle before, a large white tent, just outside the front doors of Hogwarts. Harry's heart stopped. He knew what was inside that tent...

His legs suddenly felt as though they were made of lead, the same substance that was choking him from this inside out, but he dragged them forward. He owed it to those that lay inside that tent, he had seen their families, now he ought to see them. Blatant curiosity, he longed to put faces to names, to see how many of the dead he knew, pushed him forward.

An exhausted looking guard stood by the hangings that covered the entrance to the tent. He reached for Harry's hand as he came forward, shaking it with all the energy he could muster.

"Thank you Mister Potter," he spoke, his voice heavy and thick. "We can't thank you enough."

Harry brushed off his thanks, mainly because he found himself unable to speak, the heavy weight in his chest has climbed into his throat, rendering speech quiet impossible. The guard seemed to understand, he clasped Harry's shoulder and gave him a little push forward.

It was not as Harry had expected. The air did not reek of death, but it was peaceful and calm, rows and rows of unmoving bodies lay side by side in open coffins. Harry swallowed as hard as he could and began to walk down the isles of the dead. Fifty-seven bodies lay inside this tent, the names of the deceased Harry had heard so many times in the past day, so many faces that Harry recognized. After a few rows Harry came across the body of little Colin Creevey. Somebody had cleaned him up, so that in death he looked very peaceful. Whoever it was had thought to place a camera in his hands and Harry was glad for it. He leaned down, touching briefly one of Colin's hands.

"Thank you Colin," he whispered to his young friend. "You were always braver than anyone gave you credit for. Rest easy mate."

Harry's throat clogged further and his head ached, but his eyes remained stubbornly dry as he took one last look at Colin and moved on.

Faces after faces of those that had died past Harry, and though he recognized some of his former classmates, so many of them were unfamiliar, enough of them for Harry to realize, that he truly was not the only one suffering. People he had never met, was never likely to meet, were suffering just as much as him, if not for different reasons. He pushed forward until he came to two caskets, pushed so close together that they were touching and before he could see inside of it, he knew whom they must contain. Shaking, Harry reached for the closest one.

Remus Lupin looked more peaceful in death than Harry had ever seen him in life, the lines on his face, so often screwed up with worry or stress, were smoothed out, a small smile played on his face, he could have been dreaming. Beside him lay his wife. Tonks was brilliant in her simplicity and Harry supposed that her appearance now must be the way she was born. Her hair was long, the same colour as Remus', her features pretty and simple. Harry ached at the thought of his father's best friend and his wife, gone forever, their son, his godson, left orphaned by the end of the second war, in the same way he had been left an orphan by the end of the first.

"I'm so sorry." Harry repeated the words he had said last night to the Remus bought back by the Resurrection Stone. "So sorry that you've had to leave your son. But I'll take care of him, I swear to both of you, Teddy will grow up knowing every story I have about both of you, and he'll know what good people you were and that you died making a better world for him to live in."

Harry leaned down, brushing a kiss against Tonks' forehead. "You would have been an amazing mother, thank you for being such a good friend." Then he turned to Remus, taking his hands, warming them in his own. "Be happy Remus, thank you for everything. Say hello to Mum and Dad and Sirius for me, I know they will have been waiting for you." He leant down and kissed his friend's head, just as he had kissed his wife. "Sleep well."

Harry was barely upright as he stumbled away from the bodies of Remus and Tonks, he was shaking so badly as he turned to the next casket, one close to the entrance of the tent, that it wasn't until he was right upon it that he saw a shock of red hair. He was instantly reminded of Ron and Ginny, those Wesley's that were perhaps dearest to him, but they had survived, it was Fred, one half of the inseparable, hilarious and reliable Weasley twins, who had not. Harry approached, but was overcome upon seeing the laugh that had been frozen upon Fred Weasley's face in his last moments of life, and now was forever etched upon it in death.

Harry backed away as quickly as he could, not wanting to see the face of his brave friend and brother so still in death any longer. What he wouldn't give to no longer think, to no longer feel! How desperate he was to be rid of the tremendous weight that was weighing down his chest, making his eyes and throat ache, making it impossible for him to breathe, as if he too, was one of the dead laying so motionless in this horrific tent….

"Harry?"

A voice behind him made him jump, turning, his hand reaching for his wand as he did so. In some absent part of his mind he wondered just how long it would take for that not to become his reaction every time he was shocked…

It was Molly Weasley. She was fully dressed, her eyes red rimmed and her face pale and drawn as she reached out to him.

"There's so many…" he whispered, his voice breaking, the lump in his throat now impossible to get around. "And Remus and Tonks and Fred…" His breath started coming out in short, sharp bursts as he began to hyperventilate.

"Oh my dear," Mrs. Weasley hurried forward to him. But Harry's knees had finally given way and he found himself on the ground, shaking violently, heaving for air.

Molly Weasley knelt beside him and gathered him into her arms. Finally, finally the grief and pain spilled over as Harry began to sob, for the toll was so great and he would never be the same again. Though it may be over now, how could anybody ever be the same again after everything he had seen, felt and been through? He was finally free, but he had no idea how to live that freedom. Harry sobbed and all the while he sobbed, Molly Weasley, the closest thing he had ever had to a mother, pressed him into her bosom, muttering to him, "my poor boy, my dearest brave boy, that's it, let it out my darling, shhh, shhh, it's over now."

As Harry sobbed on the ground of the tent full of his dead friends, held in the arms of a woman who had only hours previously been engaged in a deathly duel, the sun slowly rose over the battle damaged Hogwarts…

…_Twenty four hours…._

* * *

**Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear what you think. Readers taking the time to leave a short review means everything to me.**

**Additionally, if there is something in particular you would like to see included in this story (ie. A particular event etc), send me a private message and I'll try to work it in for you.**

**SR.**


	2. Chapter 2 - On the Eve of War

**Name: On the Eve of War**

**Date: May 2****nd****, 1998 – Sometime during the Battle of Hogwarts**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Hurt-Comfort/Family**

"_All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,_

_And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier."_

― _Walt Whitman_

They had all gathered, hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, waiting with unnecessary, bated breath for news and for those that would soon be joining them. They stood in solidarity, all dreading and anticipating seeing their loved ones in equal measure.

James and Lily stood with their friends. Sirius to James' left, Dumbledore to Lily's right. Their extended families were somewhere in the crowd, waiting to greet any that came through.

"You are likely to be called back," Dumbledore reminded Sirius, James and Lily again. "I believe Harry will realize my gift to him and you may bring him some comfort."

Lily nodded, willing her baby boy to be brave. That she had never lived to see him grow up had been agonizing, that she could do nothing to help him now was even more so. The news others had brought them of him over the years had sustained her, though if it were a choice between knowing nothing of her son, and having more friends die, she would much rather remain ignorant, hoping and praying that his life was a good one.

"Not much longer," James reassured her, trying to ignore his own worry. "We'll get to see him Lily, and if Dumbledore is right, we won't see him again after today, for one hundred years at least."

"Oh please," Lily whispered fervently. "My poor, brave boy."

The numbers started to come faster now and as each arrived, reborn whole and well, their family and friends stepped forward to claim them, offering comfort and explanations. Time passed and still their anxiety grew. All had a sense that the end was near.

As Fred Weasley stumbled through the fog to reach them, Lily, James, Sirius, Dumbledore and Mad Eye were the first to reach him.

"Fred," Sirius reached for him and drew him in to a long embrace. "I'm so sorry mate."

"My dear boy," Dumbledore clasped Fred's shoulder. "I cannot tell you how proud of you I am. All will be well."

"You did well Weasley," Moody growled, albeit in a much more comforting way than his usual brusque manner. "It's over for you now, you've done all you can."

Lily pushed past the assembled men and despite the fact she had never met Fred, nor any of his family, she drew him in to a mother's embrace, soothing his confusion and fears with gentle explanations of where they were and why they were there. She was desperate for information on her son, but she knew herself how confused and scared Fred would be and bit her tongue to keep the questions of his well being from bursting forth.

"It's not fair," Fred told them all, shaking his head in disbelief. "I should be down there, fighting still. Mum and dad," his voice broke off and he continued in a whisper. "Angelina…."

"I'm so sorry Fred," James grasped his shoulder, just as Dumbledore had done previously. "It's not fair at all."

"Blimey," Fred breathed, staring at James in shock. "You look so bloody much like Harry."

Both the Potter's eyes swam with tears at Fred's words and without being asked, Fred seemed to intuitively know what was needed.

"They're all still fighting," he raised his voice so that more than just their group could hear. "They've got a little time left…I don't know though."

They moved back in line, Fred alongside them, as their vigil continued.

It seemed like only a matter of minutes later when another familiar figure made his way through the fog. Unlike Fred, Remus Lupin knew exactly where he was, and if it weren't for his extreme worry over his wife and child, he would have been glad to be there.

James and Sirius both ran towards their friend, throwing their arms around him in a choking embrace. None were ashamed of their damp cheeks and red eyes as they separated. Lily found herself in the embrace of her dear friend then and held him closely as he whispered to her –

"They're still fighting, all of them. Harry can do this, Lily, I know he can."

They had only just separated when another figure began to appear through the fog, stumbling and crying Nymphadora Tonks fell into her husband's arms, gasping for breath.

"Our son, Remus, our son,"

Teddy Lupin's parents clung to each other, their tears intermingling as they mourned not their own deaths, but the lost opportunity of seeing their infant son grow and live.

The arrivals stopped suddenly and all of the assembled waited with bated breath and anxious hearts.

"The time is near," Dumbledore warned them all. "I truly believe our time is near."

They lapsed in to further silence and the time of waiting seemed unbearable. Finally, after almost an hour with no new arrivals, a lone figure walked unsteadily through the fog.

With an understanding glance from her husband, Lily Potter made her way forward into the embrace of the man who, as a boy, had been her closest friend. Severus Snape buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair, exactly as he remembered, and was glad to be dead.

When they eventually separated, James did not hesitate. He strode forward and offered his hand to the man that loved his wife as much as he did.

"Thank you, Severus, for looking after our boy,"

And in a way they never would have been able to in life, James Potter and Severus Snape shook hands, agreeing to forget the past in death.

"Severus, my most loyal friend," Dumbledore was the next to embrace him. "I cannot thank you enough. Tell us, what news?"

"The Dark Lord is worried," Severus told them slowly. "Though I believe he will follow the course we expected. The boy…Harry, has my memories. He has enough support to survive until the end. The snake I believe, is the only Horcrux remaining, we are very close," he looked at Lily, his expression soft, his love for her shinning through. "I know your boy Lily, I truly believe he can finish this. The end is near."

One last time, they all moved back into line, keeping vigil, silently praying that those that they loved would not make their way to them that day.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, please let me know your thoughts in a short review._

_The next chapter is almost finished, it should be out within a week. Additionally, I promise not all chapters will be quite so angsty as the first two. For the moment, we're witnessing our beloved characters dealing with the aftermath of the end of the war. As time progresses, the events of their lives will be of a happier nature. This chapter was also shorter than most, average chapter lengths will exceed 3500 words. Thank you again._

_SR._


	3. Chapter 3 - In the Middle of the Night

**Name: In the Middle of the Night **

**Date: June ****1****st**** and 2****nd**** 1998**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Romance/Hurt-Comfort**

'_Grief drives men into habits of serious reflection, sharpens the understanding, and softens the heart'_

_- John Adams_

It was late when Arthur Weasley finally made his way home on the night of June 1st, so late in fact, that it could almost be called early. His day had been exhausting, as had every day of the past month. It wasn't the length of his day however, that was responsible for the aching of his muscles and the pounding of his head. That could only be attributed to grief, bone-deep, soul-consuming grief, a torment that, no matter how busy he had kept himself in the past month, had not left him for one moment.

The newly refurbished Burrow was quiet, all his children sequestered in their respective bedrooms, he hoped sleeping peacefully. For some he knew sleep had been a struggle in the month since the Battle of Hogwarts. Others, Ron and Charlie among them, escaped into the mindless oblivion sleep provided. Arthur found himself to be a curious mixture of both. Sleep provided some relief from the ever-present anguish that had settled in his chest, though in his dreams he often found himself again in Hogwarts, this time, in his nightmares, surrounded by redheaded bodies. The memory of these dreams was enough to make him shudder and quicken his steps up the staircase.

Molly was a peacefully sleeping lump under the duvet and the sight of her face comfortably slackened with sleep soothed him instantly. She had struggled so bravely in the month since the battle and, despite his own pain, Arthur did not know when he had been prouder of her, or gladder that she was his wife.

While Arthur had been needed at the Ministry in this important time of cleansing, Molly had held the Burrow and their children, together, much in the way she always had. They had both firmly adhered to the school of thought that suggested keeping busy was the key to keeping their grief from overwhelming them and so far this had worked rather well. Molly was in her element with a house full of adult children to fuss over, as well as the visits from those friends who continued to stop in regularly. Her days were so full of making sure that nobody wanted for anything that it seemed she could go for hours at a time without identifying the lump in her throat as grief, or the hole in her heart as belonging to their lost son.

Arthur spent his days alongside Kingsley, working within the Ministry to direct their resources to where they were most needed. He had turned down the promotion Kingsley had offered to him in the days immediately after the battle, though, in reality, the work he had occupied his last several weeks with was far from his usual. He longed for the days when the Ministry and world would settle in to a new beginning and he could go back to discovering the functions of inane Muggle objects.

Wearily donning his pajamas, Arthur sighed audibly as he slipped beneath the duvet. Molly turned to him, intertwining her fingers with his own.

"I'm glad you're home," she told him in a voice that was barely audible even in the stillness of the night.

"I'm glad to be home," he stroked his thumb over hers. "What's happened here today?"

"The usual," she sighed. "Charlie, George and Ron slept late. Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Percy were up early. Bill and Fleur stopped by after work, they'd spent the day fixing the damage Ron, Harry and Hermione left behind at Gringott's. Harry and Hermione were embarrassed, though I think Ron may have been a little proud. They told us what happened in the vaults," she shuddered and moved infinitesimally closer to her husband. "To think how many times we have come so close to losing them all."

They were both silent as they thought on how lucky they truly had been, despite the loss of Fred. That their son had been instrumental in bringing about the fall of the Dark Lord was still unbelievable, that he had survived was nothing short of a miracle. It was equally as miraculous that their youngest son's friends, who they had long since come to look at as their own, had also survived.

"I think Percy was glad to be back at work," Arthur made an attempt to change the subject somewhat. "It did him good to be busy and to know that he still has a place in the Ministry."

"He always has been the most hard working of all the Weasley's," Molly sighed. "I worry though, that he's going back too soon. He seemed so tired this evening."

"We're all tired, dearest," Arthur reminded her gently. "It's part of it all, I think we'll all be tired for a long while yet."

"George wants to re-open the shop," she informed him. "I think it's a dreadful idea. It will just remind him of….his grief."

"I think we're all aware of our grief Molly," Arthur said soothingly. "If George wants to get back to work I don't think we can stop him. I think it might do him some good."

"You might be right," Molly sighed again. "I just wish we could keep them here forever, safe…"

"So do I, dearest," Arthur kissed her forehead, encouraging her to close her eyes. "So do I."

It was only a matter of moments before his weary body drifted off in to a fitful sleep.

* * *

As Arthur fell in to an uneasy sleep, his third eldest son lay awake, staring at the ceiling above his bed. Percy Weasley was as exhausted as his father, sleep, however, would not come easily.

Like the rest of his family, Percy was wracked with grief from Fred's passing. For Percy however, the grief was almost outweighed by the guilt that had been his constant companion these few years. Even in his most pompous, Ministry-loving, self-important moments he had known, somewhere deep inside, that his actions against his family had been wrong. He had justified his actions, acknowledged the faults of his family and disregarded his own. Despite this justification, he had never been able to fully tune out or ignore the sense within him that his family, despite all their faults, was still his family, and deserved his loyalty.

Percy had often questioned the Sorting Hat's decision to place him in Gryffindor with his family. In his darkest moments of introspection he found little bravery, courage or loyalty within himself. He had reckoned, with his brains, he might have better suited to Ravenclaw, or, for all his hard work, Hufflepuff. To his eternal mortification and shame, he also found elements of those traits required to be placed in Slytherin house within himself and was prodigiously glad, if not a little bemused, that the Sorting Hat had seen something within him to see fit to place him with his family in Gryffindor.

Though he had perhaps not always best exemplified those traits attributable to Gryffindor's, he had come to believe that his actions in joining his family in time for the Battle of Hogwarts may have proven his worth as an alumni of that worthy House. He was heartily ashamed of himself for not acting sooner and relieved that his family had accepted his return so readily. That the brother he'd lost had been the first to welcome him back would forever be a painful reminder of his greatest folly.

It was thoughts of Fred that kept Percy awake at night so often. Memories, good and bad, danced through his head and kept him from finding his rest. Returning to the Ministry had only exacerbated his exhaustion, yet still, sleep would not come. Despite his insomnia, it felt good to be back at work, back doing what he had thought himself good at. That he was helping to destroy what he had assisted to build seemed ironic, but this time at least he was certain he was on the side of what was right.

Being back in his childhood bedroom offered a sense of comfort he had not anticipated on returning to the Burrow, despite his inability to sleep. As a child and an adolescent he had worked tirelessly to gain his parent's attention, his preferred method of doing so his achievements at school. His desperate need to be considered special had morphed him into an adult he had neither recognized nor liked, and now, having seen the error of his ways, he was constantly aware of his every action and thought, lest they betray a tendency for him to slip into his old habits.

As his thoughts dwelled on his past folly, suddenly, inexplicably his thoughts turned in a different direction. Even in the still of the night his face burnt with a fierce blush as unbidden, the image of Audrey Harrison, a witch that had come to work in the Ministry following the conclusion of the War, came to mind. They had met several days ago and he had worked closely with her that very day. He had found her to be an unassuming, kind woman, who reminded him strangely of both his mother and younger sister. She had quietly expressed her condolences for his loss and for the first time since Fred's death, after which he had been offered innumerable similar sentiments, Percy found himself sincerely appreciating her words. That she was pretty he could not deny, that he had been immediately drawn to her he could not explain.

Silently resolving to seek her out at the earliest opportunity, Percy finally found sleep, as dawn broke over the horizon.

* * *

After months of living rough the luxury of a comfortable, warm bed was one Harry still relished. No matter how comfortable he was however, it was still impossible for him to sleep through the night. That he still woke at the quietest noise was no surprise. It was no easy thing to turn off his internal defense system that told him that danger was constantly lurking around the corner. A month after the Battle of Hogwarts his physical battle scars had long since faded with the tender ministrations of Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley. The scars littering his psyche would not be so quick to fade.

It was just after dawn and Ron's bedroom at the Burrow was slowly filling with sunlight. Only Ron's snores punctuating the stillness of the morning. Harry was wide awake, having woken some half an hour earlier drenched in sweat, his wand in hand. He was unable to remember his dreams, but his reaction to them told him they must be both vivid and terrifying. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept the whole night through, though in these days of quiet relaxation at the newly refurbished Burrow, it hardly mattered.

The days following the Battle had been in total juxtaposition to the indolent lifestyle he was currently attempting to enjoy. They had spent the first several days after the Battle at Hogwarts, where the very air around them was heavy with grief. A state of numbness had prevailed, as plans for the future had been made. Kingsley had offered Harry, Ron and Hermione their choice of positions within the ministry, hoping they would begin immediately, but Mrs. Weasley had put her foot down and insisted that they be allowed some time to recuperate before they were put to work. The wizarding world was in a state of upheaval and while they were eager to help, they were equally as eager to spend some time at rest. Kingsley had agreed; the trio would rest while the Ministry worked towards ensuring that all the Death Eaters and their sympathizers were captured. Once that had been done and the Ministry entered their rebuilding phase, Harry, Ron and Hermione would be put to work.

Harry was in regular contact with Kingsley and knew that the end was near. Following Voldemort's fall his surviving followers had scattered to the wind and finding them had become the top priority of the Ministry. A month on, their were few Death Eater's whose whereabouts were still unknown and Kingsley believed it was only a matter of time until they were found. Aware his days of relaxation were numbered, Harry strove to make the most of these days of nothingness, alongside the entire Weasley family. Though they all claimed to be recuperating and relaxing, the prevailing feel of the Burrow was one of grief. Harry was sure it would a long while yet before they could all come to terms with the sorrow buried deep within them all.

Giving up on sleep, Harry slipped from his bed, careful not to disturb Ron who continued to snore. He dressed quietly and made his way down the staircase that no longer creaked and groaned as it once had. He had been soundly walloped by Charlie in a game of wizard chess the night before and intended to review the game to pass the hours before everyone else would rise.

"Morning,"

Harry was just sitting down when a small voice from the entrance to the kitchen spoke. Startled, he drew his wand, lowering it immediately when his eyes found Ginny, still dressed in her pajamas, both hands clasped around a teacup.

"Sorry," he muttered, stowing his wand in his pocket. "Habit."

"Don't worry about it," she shrugged. "I cursed one of the chickens in the yard yesterday because it crowed too loudly and startled me. Moody would be proud."

Harry chuckled, but the sound was half-hearted at best.

"Couldn't sleep?" She enquired, ignoring the free lounge chairs she made for the empty space beside him.

"I've been up for a while," he told her as she settled on the couch. "You?"

"I can't remember the last time I slept properly," she refused to meet his eyes as she blew gently at the steam spiraling upwards from her cup. "Another habit I suppose."

"I know what you mean," Harry wasn't sure if it was sleep depravation or simple desperation, but the sight of her pursed lips cooling her tea suddenly made him very uncomfortable. Completely unbidden, the memory of the last time they had been alone together, many months prior, invaded his senses. It had been his birthday the year before and her gift had stayed with him in his memory ever since.

"I've missed you, Ginny." The words could no longer be suppressed.

Her eyes filled with tears that she hastily bit back, shifting infinitesimally closer to him on the couch.

"I missed you, Harry," she whispered. "So much, so, so much."

Hoping he was doing the right thing, he moved closer to her. Gently slipping an arm around her shoulders, he cuddled her close to him. With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder.

They sat quietly together, content to simply be. Harry's heart, which for the past month had been consumed with the dead weight of grief, felt a little lighter, a little healthier, simply for being in her presence. As they sat in silence he hoped his nearness was providing a similar comfort to her.

"I wonder if life will ever go back to normal again," Ginny whispered eventually. "I've been lying awake at night wishing it would. But it never will, not without Fred and Tonks and Lupin. Not with everything we've gone through."

Harry wished he had an answer for her. He wasn't sure he had experienced 'normal' since he had first read his Hogwarts letter eight years previously. From that point he had spent his time evading, then chasing, the Dark Lord. A normal life, a life free from danger and precariousness, was something he wasn't sure how to lead.

"I guess we'll make a new normal," Harry suggested. "You're right, things will never go back to the ways they were, but you'll go back to Hogwarts soon, and I'll start work and life will keep going."

"And I'll miss you again."

"I'll miss you as well," he dared to brush a gentle kiss over her hair, reveling in the sweet smell he'd missed so much. "But you'll be done in a year and…."

"And...?"

"We'll start another new normal. I told you that dating you, the happiness being with you gave me, was like something out of someone else's life. I'd like for it to be my life, if you'll have me."

In response Ginny turned to Harry and pressed a fleeting kiss against his warm lips. With a content sigh, they reclined together on the couch and within moments were both asleep.

For the first time in months, Harry slept soundly, undisturbed by dark memories and dreams.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed this quick glimpse into the healing of a few of our favorite characters. Once again, future chapters will not be quite as angsty, as time goes on for our characters, events will be of a happier nature._

_The next chapter is almost complete and is one of my absolute favorites, though the subject matter is a little controversial. It should be posted within the week._

_Once again, thank you for reading. Please take a moment to leave a review._

_SR._


	4. Chapter 4 - In His Stead

**Name: In His Stead**

**Date: June 10****th****, 1998**

**Rating: M**

**Genre: Angst/Hurt-Comfort**

"_Happily ever after is not a fairy tale. It's a choice."_

_Fawn Weaver_

The air in the shop was still musty, despite George having let himself in several hours previously. It had been six months since he and his twin had boarded up the doors to Weasley Wizard Wheezes and for the first time since the conclusion of the war, he had re-entered, this time alone.

For a few brief moments after his brothers funeral George had considered selling the business. It had taken him mere seconds to realize that Fred would be appalled if the shop was to close and he had resolved, as hard as it might be, to be back up and running within the year.

And so, much to his mother's distress, that morning George had packed his trunk, given her a lingering hug, promised to come back occasionally for meals and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

The difference in the Diagon Alley George had last fled and the one he arrived back to was remarkable. While not yet fully restored to its former grandeur, it was bustling again. In fact, it took George almost an hour to make his way to the front door of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, as people, strangers and friends alike stopped to thank him, commiserate with him and wish him luck. The result was that George was both mentally and emotionally exhausted by the time he reached the shop and it took him another hour to muster the energy to complete the repairs that needed to be undertaken.

A quiet knock on the window caught George's attention and he turned, astounded to see Angelina, her eyes downcast but obviously filled with tears, looking more shaken, and frankly terrified, then he had seen her in the month since the conclusion of the war.

Immediately George opened the door and pulled her in. She collapsed into his arms, quite a feat considering she was at least as tall as he was, sobbing uncontrollably. George wrapped his arms around her shaking body, completely bewildered.

"I'm so..soor….sorry," she hiccupped. "I just didn't know where else to go."

"Okay Angie," George soothed. "Lets get you upstairs for a cup of tea."

She grasped his hand as they climbed the rickety staircase that led to the apartment above and George blushed at the state of the place. Neither he nor Fred had ever taken much time to keep the apartment clean and in their haste to leave, and take as much as possible with them, they had not taken much care with the possessions they were leaving behind. The result was that the apartment was in such a state of upheaval that it may have appeared, to an outsider, that Death Eaters had ransacked it.

George hurriedly waved his wand over the room and the furniture immediately righted itself, a crackling fire springing into existence in the hearth. The air here too, was musty and damp, but other than the few air freshening spells he knew, there wasn't a lot he could do about that.

Leading Angelina over to the couch closest to the hearth, George sat her down.

"I'll get that cup of tea," he smiled as reassuringly as he was able. "Dash of milk and one sugar still?"

She nodded her acquiescence and George fled for the kitchen, dropping his wand and the kettle in the one movement. To say George was frazzled was an understatement. Over the past month he had spent rather a lot of time with Angelina, though, for the most part, it had been her giving comfort to him. Her upset was a total reversal of the roles they had found themselves in after Fred's passing.

George was, as far as he knew, the only wizard alive to be aware of the relationship Fred and Angelina had continued after they had left Hogwarts. In the later stages of the war he had helped Fred sneak out from under their mothers ever vigilant clutches to spend time with Angelina, also in hiding with her parents. After Fred's death Angelina had been one of the few that he had been able to talk to about his twin without completely breaking down and Angelina had been a pillar of strength to him. Yet here she was, in their apartment, beyond inconsolable and more frightened than George had seen her, even during the heat of the battle at Hogwarts.

The whistling of the kettle bought George back to the present and he hurried to slosh the amber liquid into the first two cups he laid hands on. As he added milk to Angelina's he silently thanked Fred for thinking to put life lengthening charms on their perishable goods before they had fled the apartment and thought, both wryly and somberly, that he would have been better putting a life lengthening charm on himself.

"Here we are," George gently placed the cup into Angelina's shaking hands.

"Thanks," she whispered, tears still slipping from her eyes. "I'm sorry George, I just…I had nowhere else to go."

Placing his own cup on the table in front of them and rescuing Angelina's from her quaking hands he drew her into his arms again.

"I miss him too Angie," he cooed softly into her hair. "Every second of every day I miss him. It's okay to miss him."

"I'm so….so angry at him!" Angelina sobbed. "How could he leave me alone?"

"He didn't want to leave any of us Angie," George tried to quash the anger that rose in him at Angelina's words. "He would've stayed if he could have and you're not alone, you've got me."

"You'll hate me," she hiccupped. "Your whole family will hate me."

"Why?" George was dazed. "We could never hate you Angie, I couldn't hate you if I tried!"

"I think I hate Fred," she whispered softly, her terrified eyes looking into his own bemused ones.

"Angie…" George was appalled.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered. "Your idiot brother knocked me up and then went and got himself killed."

She dissolved into tears again and this time, George was in no fit state to comfort her. He slumped back in his chair beside her, his mind blank, his mouth hanging open in shock. He hadn't known what to expect when Angelina professed her hatred for her dead lover, but it certainly hadn't been this!

"Say something," Angelina begged him, wiping her nose rather inelegantly on the back of her hand. In a remote corner of his mind George found himself wishing he had taken heed of his mother's advice to carry a handkerchief with him at all times.

Try as he might, George could not summon words. His mouth opened and closed several times, rather giving him the appearance of a fish. Angelina's lips quivered as she stood up, tears still continuously streaking down her face.

"I see," she muttered, trying and failing to appear dignified. "I'll let myself out. You won't see me again…"

"Angie!" Her words propelled George to action and he sprung to his feet, yanking rather harshly on her arm "Where in Merlin's name do you think you're going?"

"You made it quite obvious you aren't interested in my troubles George Weasley!" She exclaimed, a hint of her usual feisty personality shinning through. "Don't worry, I won't bother you or your family again."

"Angie, don't be a fool," he yanked on her arm again, bringing her closer to where he stood. "Give a guy some credit! I was shocked, that's all. Kind of a bombshell you dropped on me there, give me a moment to process it!"

"Yeah well guess how I feel," Angelina sniffled. "My parent's are going to be so upset. What will your parents say? I'm twenty one, I can't raise a baby on my own!"

"You won't be raising it on your own Angie," George looked at her like she was daft, which, in light of the events of the day, he was tempted to think she was. "Fred would bloody come back and haunt us both if I let that happen."

"You're sweet George," Angelina squeezed his hand which was still wrapped around her upper arm. "But having a great Uncle isn't the only thing a baby needs. It needs food, shelter, love… a father's love." She dissolved in to tears again.

"Then that's what we'll give it," George brushed the tears away from her cheeks with the pads of his fingers, before bringing them to rest over her still flat stomach. "This is a piece of Fred inside of you Angie, his legacy. I know it's scary and unplanned and not exactly ideal, but we _will_ make it work."

"But how?"

"We'll…" George was at a loss. He knew he had to make Fred's mistake right, for Angelina's sake and for Fred's, but his mind was coming up blank. If only Fred had have married Angelina so that she and the baby would have the respectability and comfort of marriage and… that was it! "We'll get married."

"What?" It was Angelina's turn to gape like a fish.

"You and me, right now, let's go. We'll get married!" Seeing she looked far from convinced, George stopped trying to pull her out of the apartment and instead turned his attentions to convincing her of the genius of his plan. "Nobody has to know the baby is Fred's. We'll be married and you'll be a Weasley and the baby will be a Weasley and I'll support you. You can stay at home and look after it, or go back to work and I'll bring the baby to the shop with me. I'll love him and I'll love you and we'll all be happy. It's what Fred would have wanted."

"Fred would have wanted to be here himself," Angelina whispered, her words bringing tears to both their eyes. "George… you don't love me and I don't love you. I understand what you're trying to do and I appreciate it, but survivor's guilt is not enough of a reason for two people to get married."

"No we're not in love," George agreed, knowing it would be pointless to argue with her. "But we are friends, have been for years and I care about you Angie. We'd make good partners and great parents and that's what matters. And I think, given time, we could come to love each other."

"But what about…" Angelina blushed, giving George some idea of what she was thinking about. "Other children. Surely this baby can't be an only child all their life."

"We could have other children if you wanted," George promised her, feeling his own cheeks grow warm. "But theirs no pressure. We have all the time in the world, we can just take things as they come…do what feels natural."

"George…I can't ask this of you."

"You didn't! I'm insisting. And I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm not doing this for you, or me, or even for Fred or the baby. I'm doing it for all of us," he grabbed her hands, squeezing them tightly in his own, worrying over how cold she felt. "I'll make you happy Angie, I swear to you I'll make you so bloody happy."

Angelina nodded and George felt immediately lighter.

"You'll marry me?" She nodded again. "Right now?"

"Right now?" She echoed, her eyes growing wide. "How? Why?"

"We'll go right now and see Kingsley, he'll be happy to do it," George cast his eyes around the flat in search of something that could be used as wedding bands. "I'm not taking the chance of you changing your mind Angie, or anybody else getting in our way. We'll present it to our families as a fait accompli and they can get as angry as they want, it won't change anything."

Angelina cast her eyes over herself, despairing over her appearance. She'd never imagined getting married in her work robes and with red rimmed eyes but nothing about this situation was normal or ideal.

While Angelina worried over her appearance, George had become obsessed with his hunt for wedding bands. After several minutes of fruitless searching, inspiration struck.

Entering the room that had been Fred's (and trying to ignore the pain in his chest as he did so), he strode immediately for the closet and ripped the doors open. Inside he immediately found what he had been searching for, Fred's dress robes, commissioned only weeks before they had fled Diagon Alley. At the time George had thought them ostentatious, now, he was glad for the thick gold braid that adorned the shoulders. Pulling out his wand he severed the braid from the robes, fashioning it with his wand in to two identical rings. Satisfied, he transformed them from material to metal and, with a self-satisfied flourish, took them out to present to Angelina, who promptly burst into tears again.

"You could at least pretend to be happy," George joked, receiving a weak smile in return.

"Thank you George," she whispered, worrying her hands over his shoulders. "I'll be the very best wife you could ever imagine. I'll keep a clean house and look after the baby and I won't bother you and…"

George could hardly believe the words coming from the usually strong, independent and assertive Angelina. In an effort to quiet her and because she would soon be his wife and he was allowed, he pressed her lips against hers.

He kept it short and they both smiled shyly at the other. The kiss had been pleasant and warm, quite the equivalent of their relationship. While their had been no fireworks it had been comfortable. With their hands clasped between them they made for the fireplace and the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

Luckily, they caught Kingsley in a rare quiet moment and the tired Minister for Magic welcomed them into his office. After greetings were exchanged Kingsley, as observant as ever, encouraged them to disclose their reason for their seemingly spontaneous and unannounced arrival in his office.

"Well, to be honest Kingsley, we'd like you to marry us," George refused to look sheepish, instead, announcing their news with pride.

"Well this is unexpected," the unflappable Minister for Magic raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I wasn't aware you were dating."

"We have been since high school, quietly you know," Angelina murmured. "But…we've realized, life's too short to waste time."

"I'm happy to marry you if you're sure this is what you want," George was reminded why he had chosen Kingsley to act as their celebrant, his calm, unassuming manor was reassuring. "Do you have witnesses?"

They looked at each other in a panic, witnesses were not something they had thought of.

"If I may, Professors McGonagall and Hagrid are currently meeting with one of my under ministers," Kingsley saved the distressed couple from further panic. "I'm sure two of your former teachers would be honored to provide this service for you. Shall I call them up?"

Thanking him profusely, George and Angelina agreed. Within minutes, the two very confused professors' had joined them and matters were explained.

To say that McGonagall and Hagrid were surprised would be an understatement, but both congratulated the couple and agreed to act as witnesses.

Kingsley kept the ceremony short. Vows were exchanged, Angelina cried and even George found himself choking up as Kingsley declared them bonded for life. Reaching his hands out and gently caressing the new life growing inside of Angelina, George once more brushed his lips gently over hers, swearing silently to himself, and to Fred, that he would spend the rest of his life looking after, and loving, Angelina and the baby in his dead brothers stead.

* * *

_It's always puzzled me that George and Angelina ended up marrying, when, as far as we were aware, Fred had been her twin of choice. This is my little spin on how Angelina and George as a couple came about. We'll hear more from them as the story progresses._

_Thank you for reading, please take the time to review, it means the world to me. _

_SR._


	5. Chapter 5 - In the Beginning

**Name: **The Beginning

**Date: **June 15th 1998

**Rating:** M

**Genre: **Romance

**Please Note:** This chapter has earned its M rating. It contains explicit descriptions of sexual situations. If this is something you are uncomfortable with, feel free to skip this chapter. If you PM me I'll give you a (clean) synopsis of the chapters content.

"_Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted"_

_Matthew 5:4_

Percy Weasley was unaccountably nervous as he entered the Ministry for what should have been, for all intents and purposes, as normal a day as possible in the current political climate. Six weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts the Ministry, under the leadership of Minister Shacklebolt was working as a cohesive unit, obliterating remnants of the past and building a more secure future. Percy was proud to be playing a rather vital part in the rebuilding of Wizarding Britain, though his shame over his role in the former government was still fresh. He was aware that there were those within the Ministry who did not, could not, trust him, despite his role in defeating the Dark Lord and his forces at the Battle of Hogwarts. He was determined to prove them wrong.

Since returning to work a fortnight ago, Percy had committed himself to working long hours, taking rest only when he was forced to do so by his superiors. He knew he was worrying his mother and felt guilty for it, especially when they had just reconciled and with the pain of losing Fred still raw, but Percy was determined to be useful. He was exhausted, but when he tried to sleep, respite would not come and laying around in bed when their was so much to be done seemed to him to be a monumental waste of time. So he stayed at work and stayed busy as much as he was allowed.

Kingsley had ordered him back to the Burrow around midnight the night before, with strict instructions not to return before nine the next morning. At one minute to nine exactly, Percy had kissed his mother goodbye and stepped into the Floo, reassuring himself that he had obeyed Kingsley's orders in the strictest sense, if not in the manner in which they had been intended. All in all, he'd managed less than two hours sleep, and even those had been interrupted by nightmares that left him drenched in sweat, heart racing and with a cry of terror poised on his lips.

The hours he had spent staring at his ceiling left him plenty of time to think, and while usually his thoughts in those hours tended towards the negative, last night, his thoughts had lingered on the beautiful Muggle-born witch who seemed to invade his every waking thought.

Audrey Harrison had walked in to his life less than a month ago and through only the most casual of friendships, had made an indelible impact on his life. The kindness and friendship she had showed him, the lack of judgment she had displayed and the sincerity of her smiles made his heart beat a staccato in his chest. That he was half in love with her already he had no doubt, how she felt, he had no idea.

Over the past fortnight he'd resolved at least a dozen times to ask her out, for coffee, for dinner, for drinks, anything. Each and every time he'd found himself standing in front of her, his tongue seemed to swell to the point where he could barely gasp a word and he would turn tail and scamper away, cheeks burning, cursing himself for his foolishness.

He didn't know how, but today would be different.

Compulsively straightening his robes as he rode the elevator to Level One and Kingsley's office. His new role as advisor to the Minister was one he took great pride in, though perhaps not as much pride as his former self may have done. As he strode into the office the people he passed called greetings to him, all of which he returned, in his new effort to be friendlier and more approachable. It seemed to be working; every smile he received was sincere, even in the chaotic environment of the inner sanctum of the Ministry.

Kingsley's office door was closed and without consulting his schedule, Percy knew him to be Floo-conferencing with the Minister for Magic in Australia. Yesterday he had planned on sitting in on that conference, but Kingsley had determined that it was more important for him to sleep. Waiting for the Minister to finish, Percy set about perusing the schedule for the day.

"Good morning Percy,"

His heart raced and his mouth went instantly dry. Swallowing convulsively he managed to garble out a reply, all the while wondering how it was possible for her to be so unaware that she was the most beautiful witch in the world.

"Is the Minister in conference with the Australians?" Audrey asked, tucking a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear as she perused the schedule for the day. She was so close that Percy was able to surreptitiously breath in her honeysuckle scent until he was almost drunk with it.

"He is," Percy eventually remembered to respond. "I was thinking last night we ought to work on an alternative schedule for the day, its looking increasingly likely that the Minister might have to travel to Australia for the afternoon."

"We'll have to bump all his appointments if that happens," Audrey leaned closer, the curve of her breast brushing Percy's arm, causing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Tomorrow's reasonably light on at this stage, we could saturate the morning if need be, he's only meeting with the department heads and they can wait, or deal with us if it's urgent."

Kingsley emerged from his office then, running a weary hand over his face as he did so. Percy was struck by how much Kingsley had aged in the weeks since taking office and, not for the first time, wondered if his aspirations of one day becoming the Minister for Magic were somewhat misplaced.

"I'm for Australia via Portkey this afternoon," he told them. "Minister Thurston is adamant I need to be there. I'll take someone from the office of International Magical Cooperation with me."

Audrey immediately screwed up the day's initial schedule in favor of the new one she and Percy had just drafted. The next two hours were spent hastily owling those whose appointment's with the Minister had been rescheduled, organizing the logistics of the impromptu trip and going over the necessary talking points of the meeting with Kingsley. As Kingsley prepared to leave, he ordered Audrey and Percy to take the rest of the day off, in preparation for the hectic day they would have tomorrow.

"Kingsley's so thoughtful," Audrey smiled softly as they waved him goodbye. "Though I wish he'd take his own advice and get a little rest."

Percy's mouth was dry, this was his chance. It was mid-afternoon and they both had the rest of the night off. Shoving his trembling hands in to his pockets he blurted -

"Audrey, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

She smiled slowly, her face betraying her genuine happiness at his request. He felt himself relax even before she had spoken.

"I'd love to Percy, thank you."

"Right! Great…good!" Percy couldn't help but smile broadly at her, delighting in the blush that spread over her cheeks as he did so. "Did you…erh…have somewhere you'd like to go?"

"Would you like to come to my flat for dinner?" Her blush deepened as she asked. "I've only just moved in and we've been so busy I've not had a chance to have anyone over."

"That would be lovely," Percy felt himself grow hot at the thought of being invited into her home. "But please, I'll take care of dinner, don't trouble yourself."

"That's wonderful Percy, shall we say six?"

"I'm looking forward to it Audrey," Percy told her, hoping his eyes didn't betray just how much he had been longing to spend time with her outside of work.

They parted after Percy obtained her address and it was all the eminently sensible Weasley could do not to whoop aloud as he hurried back to the Burrow.

* * *

A few short hours later, Percy stood fidgeting nervously in front of the door to Audrey's flat, having just Apparated there from the Burrow. The casserole his mother had helped him make was clutched in one hand, a bouquet of flowers he'd stopped along the way for clutched in the other. Shifting awkwardly, he knocked on the door.

Audrey swung the door open a moment later, smiling welcomingly. It was the first time he'd seen her out of work robes and her skirt and blouse, as well as the glimpse of creamy pale leg and hint of a bosom they afforded, had him sweating under his collar.

"They're beautiful Percy, thank you," Audrey smiled demurely as he handed over the flowers. "And dinner smells wonderful."

"It's just a casserole," Percy had wanted to do something more elaborate but his mother had convinced him that a casserole was much more practical and convenient.

"I'm sure it will be delicious, come in and take a seat."

Percy looked around the flat as Audrey made her way into the kitchen. It was small, but warm and homey and despite her protests that she hadn't had time to settle in, the flat was unmistakably hers, in a way that Percy found rather comforting.

They spoke about work as they ate, and though it wasn't exactly what Percy had hoped, he still found himself enjoying her company immensely. It was after they had finished eating, and as they settled beside each other on the couch with a glass of wine, that Percy realized he'd never enquired after her experience of the War.

"I was lucky, I suppose," she shrugged. "My mum's American and I went to school in the US, so as soon as things started to get really scary we managed to get over to the States. Dad's Muggleborn you see, so it wasn't really advisable for us to stay here if we could get away. I worked with the Ministry over there, trying to help as much as I could. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before His influence spread across the sea, so the American Ministry worked really hard to undermine Him. It was good to be a part of that."

"I hadn't realized that the international Ministry's were trying to help," Percy mused. "I never even thought really, we were all so caught up on what was happening here."

"That's understandable," Audrey smiled kindly. "You had rather a lot to be preoccupied with. I can't even imagine…"

"I wouldn't want you to," Percy admitted, embarrassed by the lump in his throat that made his voice rough. "I wouldn't want anyone to imagine, it was…horrific."

"I'm so sorry," Audrey shifted closer on the couch so their legs were almost touching, she reached out and took his hand. "If you'd like to talk about it, I'd be honored to listen."

"You don't need to hear it," Percy swallowed convulsively, fascinated by the warmth of her hand holding his. "You don't need to be burdened by my nightmares."

"Nightmares?" She queried, her fingers now tracing a light pattern over the back of his hand that gave him goosebumps.

"I can't remember the last time I slept," he confessed hoarsely, willing his body to stop responding so enthusiastically to her touch. "I just…can't. I lie awake staring at the ceiling. And when I do eventually sleep, I dream I'm back there, at Hogwart's, I relive it all over again…every night."

"You poor thing," she lent up, and gently brushed the hair off his forehead, her fingers lingering at the side of the face. "I had no idea it was so bad. You always look so tired."

He just nodded, unwilling to move and relinquish the pleasure of her touch.

"What do you do all night, if you don't sleep?" She queried after several minutes silence.

"I just…think. About my regrets, what I wish I had done differently. Lately though…I think about you."

"I've been thinking about you a lot too Percy,' she whispered. She was right beside him now, their thighs touching, her hand stroking the scruff of his jaw. "I think about you so much…"

They were kissing then, and Percy neither knew nor cared who initiated it. All he knew was the sweet ecstasy of her lips moving gently against his. Slowly at first, hesitantly, as their lips slowly grew accustomed to the others and then, as their tongues met for the first time, more passionately. Percy's mind was a flood of sensations, her hands tangled in his hair, his hands pressed into her back, their tongues dancing an erotic tango as her honeysuckle scent overcame him and her barely audible gasps for breath stirred him on.

Unable to help himself, he lifted her off the couch and across his lap so that she was straddling him. They both moaned as she pressed against his erection and she ground down against him shamelessly in a desperate search for friction. His hands grasped desperately at her hips, pushing her down harder against him and he groaned frenziedly as her hands pulled harshly on his hair. Gasping for breath he pulled away, only to trail a smattering of kisses down her jaw, his lips coming to rest in the hollow of her neck, where he sucked greedily on the soft flesh he found there. Her moans came louder now, spurring him on and suddenly, looking back Percy would never be able to say how, Audrey's shirt was flying over the back of the couch.

They both paused, panting for breath, looking each other cautiously in the eye. Neither was sure how to proceed, though both knew exactly what they _wanted_ to do. Hesitantly, Percy ran a finger up Audrey's bare arm, enjoying the silky feeling of her skin and the goose bumps that erupted at his touch. Detangling herself from his embrace, Audrey rose from the couch and smiled softly at Percy.

"Come to the bedroom," she encouraged, holding out a hand invitingly.

Percy swallowed convulsively, fighting the urge to sweep her off her feet and over his shoulder and charge in the direction of any horizontal surface. He rose to his feet unsteadily, his gaze fixing on her eyes and took her into his arm again.

"Are you sure?" He beseeched her, running a hand lightly down her spine, unable to help himself from stroking some part of her silky flesh.

"Very," she answered, taking his hand and tugging him gently in the direction of a doorway to their left.

Later, Percy would take the time to appreciate what Audrey had done with her bedroom. At that moment, he was fixated upon the bed that lay in the centre of the room, the covers turned down invitingly.

Audrey stepped away from him then, taking a few steps backwards, until her shins collided with the bed. With hands that Percy noticed were trembling, she reached for the zip of her skirt, sliding it down and off her body in one smooth movement.

Percy's gaze raked over her body. From the swell of her breasts, still encased in satin, over the curves of her soft stomach, the roundness of her hips and down her shapely legs she was beautiful, and he told her so, in a voice hoarse with lust.

"You're not so bad yourself," she replied with a small smile. "Though you have a few too many clothes on I think."

She reached for him then, her fingers hesitating over the collar of his shirt, then slipping downwards, loosening the buttons. Soon, she was pushing it off his shoulders, her fingers appreciating the planes of his chest, as they danced downwards towards his jeans. She paused, drawing out a tortured plea from Percy, before continuing, unsnapping the button of his jeans, then the fly, and pushing them down his hips.

They stood before each other, clad only in their underwear, drinking in the sight of the other appreciatively. They reached for each other in unison, their mouths meeting in a passion filled kiss, their hands grasping desperately at each other. Percy reveled in the feel of her curves underneath his hands, delighting in squeezing her luscious flesh and the moans he managed to elicit from her.

Breaking his lips from hers, Percy kissed his way down Audrey's body, pausing as he reached her breasts, spilling out from their casings. Fumbling behind her he managed to get it undone and tore it away from her body, drinking in the sight of her bared breasts, grabbing them and massaging them roughly in his hands, before lowering his head to take a nipple between his teeth. Audrey cried out as his tongue lapped roughly at first one, then the other, twisting and pinching as he went. His mind was cloudy with the taste of her and in his passion he tore his lips away from her breasts, kissing and lapping his way down her body, until he was peeling her knickers off her body and hesitating against the new skin revealed to him. Meeting her eye, he lowered her head and, without pause, tasted her most intimate of flesh.

She cried out immediately, straining against the restraining hand on her hip. Percy would not be deterred, he had been dreaming of this for weeks, yet the reality far outstripped the fantasy. He feasted on her like a starving man, lapping hungrily at everything she gave him and not stopping, even when she cried and begged and pleaded that she could take no more. Finally, when he could no longer deny his need to be inside of her any longer, he tore his lips away from her, quickly divesting himself of his own underwear and covering her with his body. There, he paused.

"Please," she whimpered, shifting relentlessly, straining her body to reach his. "Please Percy, please."

He could deny her nothing. In one swift, magnificently pleasurable movement, he was inside of her.

They both cried out, then stilled, staring at each other through wide eyes, their breaths coming out in desperate pants. Percy lowered his head to meet her lips and as their tongues moved together, so to did their bodies.

Their movements were slow and unhurried as they moved together in a rhythm as old as time. Their tongues danced as their bodies moved and their hands roamed, getting to know one another's bodies and what bought the other pleasure. Percy's eyes were riveted on Audrey's, allowing him to read every emotion, every spark of pleasure that passed over her face, intensifying his own sensual gratification.

Eventually, Percy could no longer ignore the burning compulsion to move faster, harder. Never breaking eye contact he reached down, tilting Audrey's hips upward and taking great satisfaction in the keening moan it elicited from deep within her throat. His thrusts came harder, his hands more forceful, and somewhere in the back of his mind Percy had the thought that her whimpers of pleasure where the most erotic sound he had ever heard in his life. He was proven wrong when she gasped his name, and endeavored to make her repeat it, often and loudly.

Percy could feel his pleasure threatening to overwhelm him, but he was determined to bring Audrey to completion first. He bent his head to her neck, sucking greedily again. His hands travelled the voluptuousness of her curves, squeezing and teasing until he felt her most intimate muscles begin to contract around him and he was lost, spiraling into his own pleasure as she gasped through hers.

He rolled off her after a moment, wary of crushing her beneath him. Still, he pulled her to his side, wrapping his arms around her and brushing a gentle kiss over her head. Audrey's errant sigh of contentment was mirrored by Percy's own, and as she pressed a kiss to his chest, Percy's only thought was that he had not known true happiness until that moment.

With a lazy flick of his hand he summoned the duvet to cover them. Sleep was already overwhelming his mind and with what was left of his energy he spoke –

"I know we need to have a conversation, but right now, I'd rather fall asleep with you in my arms."

She murmured an agreement that Percy hardly heard, taken as he was, into the land of dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning dawned early and, for Percy, entirely unexpectedly. He blinked in confusion as sunlight infiltrated the unfamiliar room through curtains that nobody had thought to draw the night before. His bones felt oddly like jelly, somewhat disconnected from his body, but, for once, his mind was clear. It struck him, rather like a Bludger to the head, that, for the first time in months, he had slept the whole night through.

He looked down, to the sleeping witch in his arms and a broad grin stretched over his face. She was magnificent, he had always thought so, but he had never known just how brilliant she truly was until the night before.

He woke her with a kiss, and as she came awake he couldn't help the words that burst forth from his lips –

"Good morning. How would you feel about spending the rest of your life with me?"

* * *

_I've never been a fan of Percy until I wrote this chapter. Percy and Audrey's story strode fully formed into my mind and would not leave until it had been told. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_Life is hectic at the moment, as I've just started a new job. I still hope to update with some regularity, but please be understanding if it takes a little longer than usual for the next chapter to be posted. In saying as much, the next chapter is already half written, so I do hope not to keep you waiting._

_Fic Rec: The Bargain by MrIntel. This is a wonderful AU Harry/Ginny story that I just finished reading. Best of all this author has 25 stories available and I can't wait to delve into some more as soon as I have the time._

_Do you have any fics you love that I might not have read? I'd love to hear from you._

_Thank you again for reading, please take the time to leave a review._

_All review replies will contain a teaser of Chapter Six._

_SR._


	6. Chapter 6 - A Dawn Interlude

**Name: **A Dawn Interlude

**Date: **September 1st 1998

**Rating:** M

**Genre: **Romance

"_Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you was beyond my control."_

_Unknown_

As it was wont to do, dawn broke early over the horizon on the morning of the first of September. It felt obscenely early to Harry, as he snuck from his camp bed in Ron's room, conscious of being as quite as possible. The floorboards were icy under foot as Harry padded lightly across the floor, opening the door, sneaking out and closing it silently behind him. He held his breath and listened for a moment, waiting to hear some sound of disturbance from within the bedroom he shared with Ron. When Ron's snores continued unabated, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and stole up the stairs.

He spared a moment for a glance around him as he reached the closed door to Ginny's bedroom. Thus far, he could have claimed to be on his way to the bathroom had anyone disturbed him. If any member of the Weasley family found him once he had crossed Ginny's threshold, he was a dead man. His heart in his throat, he knocked once, very lightly and entered.

She was still in bed, an unmoving lump under the covers. Harry's heart rate, already high from his dash through the Burrow, rose higher still. He had assumed she would have been waiting for him, out of bed and dressed. He hesitated, unsure where to look or how to move. She had asked him to come, had she forgotten?

It had been the night before, as he had leant down to kiss the corner of her mouth as they had made their way up to bed. She was to leave for Hogwarts that very morning. Ron, in an uncharacteristic display of tact, had passed them with nary a word, and firmly closed the door to his bedroom behind himself, granting them a most precious gift, a few moments alone.

Harry had been inclined to make the most of Ron's gift, but Ginny it seemed, had other ideas. She'd stood up on her tip-toes (causing Harry's heart to race with anticipation) and brushed her lips against his ear as she'd whispered –

"Come to me tomorrow morning before everyone's awake, dawn,"

And without a chance for Harry to demure, she'd left him standing alone on the staircase outside Ron's room.

He'd mulled on her words for a good part of the night, before finally deciding to take her words on face value and make for her bedroom at dawn. And here he stood, just as she had requested, and there she lay, a sleeping bundle under the covers.

Or not.

"Harry," her sleepy voice murmured. "Are you going to stand their in the cold or are you getting in?"

His face flushed a very vibrant red and he felt a thrill on anticipation race through him at her words. Still, he had to be certain.

"Are you…sure?"

"Get in Potter,"

Harry did not need to be told a third time. He crossed the room and pulling back the covers, slid in to the small, warm bed.

"Merlin Harry! Your feet are freezing!" She exclaimed as they came into contact with her shins.

"Sorry," he muttered, unable to form more words, overcome as he was by her nearness, her scent and her welcoming hands.

Instead of moving away, Ginny burrowed closer. The noise of contentment she made in the back of her throat as he wound his arms around her body was possibly the most thrilling sound Harry thought he had ever heard.

They lay there for several minutes, simply reveling in the nearness of the other. Though they had seen each other every day since the end of the war, Harry thought it might have been the only time they had ever been truly alone. The Burrow was such a busy place, between the Weasley's, various friends and family members and former Order members who seemed to arrive with startling regularity, that time to themselves had been near impossible to come across.

"This is nice," Ginny sighed, as if echoing Harry's thoughts.

"Mmm," he murmured, feeling too lazy, too utterly content, to even speak. Ginny shifted, and Harry's hands came into contact with an exposed sliver of her stomach. He froze, suddenly preoccupied with a question that he couldn't believe had never occurred to him before.

Just what did Ginny wear to bed?

Feeling emboldened by her invitation into her bed, but not wanting to presume too much, Harry's hands began to explore, tracing lightly over her exposed skin and enjoying the goose bumps that erupted on her skin wherever his hands ventured. She squirmed away from his feather light caresses over her ribcage and let out a breathy sigh as he traced the edge of her tank top.

"Harry…"

Not knowing whether she wanted him to stop or continue, Harry chose to hope for the second and moved his hands down her legs. When her hands moved from their purchase on his shoulders, down his chest, Harry's breath caught in his chest and his hands faltered for a moment, before continuing on their explorations.

Their lips met then and it was unlike any kiss they'd ever shared, excepting the one from his birthday the year previously. It burnt with previously hidden lust and feeling and Harry was glad they were lying down, for if they hadn't been, he wasn't sure his legs could have supported him. His hands continued to explore her body, pausing momentarily at her thigh and, in a fit of daring Harry himself could hardly believe, he hitched her leg up over his hip, bringing her impossibly closer and creating the most delicious sensations between them that made him groan and her gasp.

Their mouths met again with increased intensity. Harry's blood felt hot in his veins, all thoughts had fled his mind, excepting how good Ginny felt beneath his hands and how good she was making him feel. He was aware, somewhere in the back of his mind that his hands had grown rough in their explorations and if Ginny had shown any sign of dissatisfaction he would have stopped immediately. But it was quite the opposite, as his hands grew bolder, so to did her own. Their lips were frantic, as if they couldn't keep up with the passion that burned between them and their hands clutched them impossibly closer, as if trying to mould their two bodies into one.

"I'm going to miss you," Harry gasped out against her neck, as her hands clutched for his rear, bringing him closer again.

"Shh…" she murmured, as her eyes rolled back in her head at the feeling of him lapping at her collar bones. "Don't talk about it… I don't….want to think…"

"It's only a year," he muttered, as he nibbled on the outer shell of her ear. "And we've got holidays, and Hogsmeade weekends. You'll be so busy it will fly."

"What about you Auror Potter?" She teased, her hands gripping his hair roughly and pulling his lips back to meet hers. Harry didn't know if his name had ever sounded so erotic. "Living with my brother… training…" She gasped, unable to speak as their tongues once again introduced themselves enthusiastically.

Eventually, their passion began to cool, aware as they were that their time alone together was limited. Their kisses grew from frantic and erotic to languid and full of feeling, as their hands too, ceased their exploration and focused on keeping the other as close as was possible. Ginny ended the kiss by burying her face in the crook of Harry's neck and planting a soft, tender kiss to the sensitive skin there. They sighed in unison.

"I feel as if we've hardly had any time together," Ginny murmured, shivering as Harry traced patterns over her back. "I could spend every day, all day with you and I don't feel as if I'd ever tire of you."

"I'm sure you would," Harry reassured her self-deprecatingly. "I'm pretty boring, really."

"Don't knock my boyfriend," she growled at him. "I'm quite fond of him you see."

"I love you," Harry murmured unthinkingly. He'd known it for weeks, months even and he was (almost) confident that she felt the same. Still, he hadn't meant to blurt it out in quite that fashion.

Ginny's eyes burned with the same emotion Harry had seen from her so often, though he couldn't imagine that he would ever grow tired of seeing it.

"I love you too," she replied quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. She squeezed her eyes shut as she burrowed further into his warmth, determined to remember every detail, to keep her company on her lonely nights in her dormitory at Hogwart's.

"I wish I wasn't going today," she spoke again eventually, willing away the sun that was slowly rising over the horizon. Her family would be rising soon and their solitude would be at an end.

"I know," Harry told her; he wished she could stay with him, preferably just as she was in that moment, forever. "But you need N.E.W.T.'s, and after that….we've all the time in the world."

* * *

"You could've stayed home," Ginny murmured to Harry, as he shied away from yet another camera flash. His appearance on Platform 9 3/4 had caused absolute pandemonium. Ginny was inclined to find it funny, at the Burrow, she could almost forget that her boyfriend was perhaps the most famous wizard in the world. Harry however, was clearly grossly uncomfortable.

"I should be able to drop my girlfriend off at the train for school without causing a stampede," he murmured, as he levitated her trunk onboard.

"Everybody's just so grateful Harry," she told him, as they searched in vain for a nook where they could find some privacy. "They're only trying to show you how much."

"Right now I couldn't give a toss," he told her, taking her into his arms and attempting to ignore the blatantly curious stares of those around them. "I don't want to waste our last few moments together talking about something so unimportant."

"I'll see you at Christmas," she told him, surprised by the tears that jumped into her eyes at the thought. Ginny Weasley _never_ cried. "And I'll write as often as I can. Hopefully we'll have a Hogsmeade weekend soon."

The scarlet train engine began to steam; it was time for her to get on board. Harry walked her to the door, opened it and pulled her back. Without breaking eye contact, and trying to pour everything he felt for her into such a simple action, Harry raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her open palm.

Her breath caught, her hand pressed against his cheek and she was gone.

It was almost an hour before Harry could disengage himself from all his well wishers. Ginny was right, they all wanted to thank him, shake his hand, get his autograph. For once it was a welcome task, it kept his mind from Ginny, travelling away from him and taking with her his heart.

* * *

Later that evening, after dinner, as Harry battled Ron in a game of wizarding chess he was destined to lose, the _Evening Prophet_ arrived. Arthur freed the delivery owl of its burden and spread it out across his lap as he took a sip of tea.

"You've made the front page again Harry," Arthur handed the paper over. "But I think you'll want to see this one."

Curious, Harry accepted the paper, unfolded it and almost choked as he took in the front page. Their, taking up three quarters of the page, was a moving picture of Ginny about to board the train at the station, her hand caressing his cheeks, her eyes full of love. Harry's heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest at the proof of her feelings for him, displayed so prominently for the entire wizarding world to see.

"They never give up hey mate," Ron was unusually sympathetic.

"Yeah," Harry's voice was hoarse as he answered. He had already been missing Ginny, but seeing this photo, seeing her love for him, a love he didn't understand, spelt all over features, made the ache even more acute. Nine months, he reminded himself, he could last nine months, with a few visits here and there. And after that, he would never be parted from her again.

* * *

Lying in bed later that night, Harry found himself unable to sleep, despite his early start that morning. He had managed to filch the front page of the _Evening Prophet_, he hoped none of the Weasley's had noticed, and now the moving photograph of his farewell to Ginny was clutched in his hand as he tossed and turned.

He had known he would miss her, had been prepared for it. But he wondered in anything could have prepared him for the ache caused by her absence, especially after such a declaration as they had each offered the other that morning.

It had been no surprise to him to find that he loved her. It had come upon him so gradually that he had been in the middle before he realized it had begun. Loving Ginny was one of the easiest things he had done in his life. His confusion however, was two-fold. What came next? And how on Earth did she love him in return?

It had been many years since Ginny's love had taken the form of hero-worship like adoration. He was not concerned that she loved Harry Potter, rather than just plain old Harry. He knew her well enough to know that his fame was no longer the draw card. Just what the true attraction was however, he could not fathom.

The words he had spoken to her that morning 'I love you', were words he had never spoken before. There were those in his life that he loved, Ron, Hermione, the entire Weasley family, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus. He assumed he had loved his parents as an infant as well, and tried his best to love them now, though how to love those he had never known was difficult. The words however, had always been superfluous, unnecessary and more than a little awkward. Their had been nothing awkward about saying them to Ginny that morning, indeed, they'd slipped from his lips quite unintentionally, though he'd been aware of the feelings behind them for some time. That she had said it back, that someone, that _Ginny_ loved him, was a source of wonder and confusion. It felt wonderful, to be loved by her, even if he didn't understand her love for him, the primary thought in his mind however, was just where they went from here.

Their path for the immediate future was obvious. Ginny would attend Hogwarts until the following June, while he would focus on his new career in the Auror office. He and Ron were soon to move out of the Burrow, into the small flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and Harry was looking forward to the independence that would grant him, if not looking forward to missing out on Mrs. Weasley's mothering and outstanding cooking. Hermione had moved back in with her parents, wanting to spend as much time with them as possible now that they were once again aware of their true identities. What happened once Ginny finished school however, Harry was unsure.

He had promised her that morning that they had all the time in the world, and that was true, in a way that would never have been possible only three months ago. There were so many variables to that time however. What would Ginny want to do once she finished at Hogwarts? Would she want to move back to the Burrow, or…Harry's whole body flushed at the thought, would she want to move in with him?

He shuddered violently at the idea of he and Ginny sharing a bedroom in the flat above the shop in Diagon Alley, while Ron and eventually Hermione, shared the other. He had been told that he owned several properties throughout Great Britain, perhaps they might move in to one of them? In many ways, the Wizard world was much more old fashioned than the Muggle one Harry had grown up in and he wondered if Ginny would want to move in with him before they were married.

The idea of marrying Ginny was not as frightening to Harry as it perhaps should have been. To be sure, they were young, but his parents had been married young, they had been only twenty when he was born. He was reasonably certain also, that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been married as soon as Molly had graduated Hogwarts. Even Fleur was only twenty when she had married Bill. It would hardly be unheard of for them to be engaged as soon as Ginny graduated Hogwarts, or even married…

Harry stopped his thoughts before he could get to carried away. The idea of marrying Ginny, the woman he loved, and building his very own family, was almost overwhelming in its appeal. He had no idea however, how Ginny felt about such matters, and such things were hardly appropriate to be addressed through letters. He would have to wait until they were together again, and try to establish her feelings on the matter then.

Eventually, the clipping from the _Evening Prophet_ still clutched in his hand, Harry fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

_I thought it just like Harry to be so self-deprecating as to not understand how Ginny, or anyone else, could love him. In the not so distant future, we will hear Ginny's thoughts on the matter._

_I hope all Jane Austen fans caught my thievery of her magnificent words._

_This chapter did not exist before yesterday. It came together quickly after the picture of Harry and Ginny saying their farewells in bed, then at the train, would not leave my mind. Because of this, the next chapter is almost ready to go, it will post shortly. All those that review will get a teaser of Chapter Seven._

_Thank you again for reading, please take the time to leave a short review._

_SR._


	7. Chapter 7 - A Piece of Home

AN: For those that reviewed the last chapter, I'm sorry I didn't deliver on the promised teaser. I have been without Internet and unable to reply to any reviews. In fact I'm stealing the Internet at work to get this to you! I fully intend on replying once my access to the Internet has been restored and to all those that review this chapter, I have an outtake for you (more information on that below). Thanks for your understanding.

* * *

**Name: **A Piece of Home

**Date: **December 25th 1998

**Rating:** K+

**Genre: **Family/Romance

"_Christmas is not an external event at all, but a piece of one's home that one carries in one's heart."_

_Freya Stark_

[/i]

Christmas at the Burrow was a subdued affair that year. On the insistence of Mr. Weasley only family was present and despite the very obvious absence of one family member, the Weasley family appeared to have grown from the previous year.

Ginny was home from her final year at Hogwarts for the holidays and every Weasley, as well as Harry himself, had somehow managed to find themselves not working. Though Hermione was spending the holidays with her parents, she too had turned up for the day. Mrs. Weasley had insisted on inviting Andromeda and Teddy, and though Harry was delighted to spend the day with his godson, it highlighted the want of two others that ought to have been sharing the day with them.

Though these absentees were likely foremost in everybody's mind just as they were in Harry's, the atmosphere around the Burrow was mostly cheerful. They were all crammed into the dining room, gifts were exchanged and the mounds of food prepared by Mrs. Weasley were devoured. Teddy delighted everybody with his laughter and for the day at least it was almost possible to forget all the problems that they were all facing from the outside world.

It was the first day off Harry could remember having since the summer. His training as an Auror had been intense and exhausting and he was glad for the few days off he had been granted by special order of the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It felt good to see everybody all together, to be back with his family, amongst the teasing and laughter and to simply take the time to enjoy himself. The food was excellent, better than anything Harry and Ron had managed to construct for themselves in the tiny flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes over the past several months and the company was Harry's favourite. It was no surprise that Harry found himself smiling more than he had in many months.

Lunch had long since finished and an air of tranquil stupor rained as their larger group separated into several smaller clusters. Harry had been bouncing Teddy on his lap when the baby started crying loudly. Harry rocked him gently in his arms, making the nonsense soothing sounds that he knew usually calmed the baby. George, sitting opposite Harry at the table, snorted with laughter at the noises Harry was making.

"Better you than me mate."

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at the heavily pregnant Angelina sitting beside George.

"Have you seen your wife lately George? You do realise you're going to be a father in what, a month?"

"Three week, Angelina all but growled at Harry. "If it was any longer I would have gone crazy by now."

"Are you terribly uncomfortable dear?" Mrs Weasley asked her daughter-in-law, as Harry realised that the rocking, accompanied with the noises had quietened Teddy's tears.

"As long as I don't try to eat, stand up, sit or lie down I'm fine," Angelina sighed, running a finger over her huge belly.

"If you can't sleep you're not far away," Mrs Weasley promised. "Let me fix you another cup of tea dear."

"You're going to look like that in a few months," Bill grinned at Fleur over his goblet and Harry thought that it was likely that Bill had had rather too many Firewhiskey's after lunch.

Fleur glared at Bill while lovingly stroking the tiny bump under her jumper.

"Don't listen to him Fleur," Angelina told her. "You'll never be as huge as me. I look like a troll."

"Yeah, well you're having George's kid aren't you?" Ron snorted. "With a head that big…"

Ron was prevented from saying more as his brother flicked a goblet of wine towards him, which Ron deflected.

"Quick reflexes," Harry complimented his best mate.

"Yeah well, I'm no Seeker," Ron said modestly.

As the day wore on the crowd around the Burrow thinned. Andromeda took Teddy home, Percy and his fiancé, Audrey, left to have dinner with her family and George took an exhausted Angelina home.

"The poor dear," Mrs Weasley said after they had seen them off. "The last few weeks are always the worst."

"Mum, a couple of months ago you went barmy at George and Angelina for getting married! Now you're their own personal cheer squad!" Ron protested against the dreamy look on his mothers face.

Harry could barely suppress his snort of laughter. It was true; Mrs Weasley had been horrified when George had announced his marriage to Angelina. It had been the first real reaction any of them had seen from her since the battle, though Bill maintained it had more to do with being robbed of the chance to plan another wedding than out of any real anger. Though her fury had subsided, she had maintained her antagonism, determined to prove that they were both too young and acting only out of grief for their loss. That lasted a few weeks, until Mrs Weasley had first seen the tiny bump that was visible under Angelina's clothes. From that moment, she had been completely besotted, knitting constantly for the baby, sending food with George so Angelina could rest instead of cook and digging out every baby item the Weasley family had ever had to lend it to them. She was delighted when Percy announced his engagement to the Audrey, the witch responsible for restoring his sanity and her delight had increased, when, only a few weeks ago, Bill and Fleur had made known that they too, were to be parents.

"Leave her be Ron, can't you tell how excited she is to be a grandmother," Hermione gently chided. "You're going to be an uncle too you know?"

Ron grinned widely

.

"I know. I've got so many plans, all the things that F…Fr…Fred and George did to me when I was little, I'm getting them back. What colour was it that they turned me Mum? Blue or green?"

The afternoon continued and the crowd thinned a little more as Charlie and Arthur retired to Arthur's shed. Harry excused himself from the kitchen and made his way into the sitting room, where he found Ginny beside the Christmas tree, staring out the window at the snow covered yard.

He came up behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his chin into the crook between her neck and her shoulder. She sighed contently as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.

"How are you?" He asked her, gently enquiring into the nature of her absence in the kitchen.

"I'm fine, really. I've just missed this place, missed being home, missed you," she replied with a small smile, designed to reassure. "I was just thinking really."

"About?" He probed.

"Just wishing N.E.W.T's were over with already and I didn't have to go back."

"Only a few months left now," Harry told her, gently nuzzling her neck. "And then you're free, all mine."

She let out a throaty sigh of approval at the way his lips were moving against her collarbone.

"Promise?" She asked, turning to face him, her brown eyes cheerfully teasing.

"Promise." Harry heard himself agree, before she pulled his head down to meet her lips.

In the kitchen, Mrs Weasley was interrogating Ron and Hermione.

"What have they said about it?" She asked.

"Honestly Mum, you know Harry, he's barely said a thing. I know they write to each other though, a lot." Ron told her. "He seemed happy that she was coming home for break."

Hermione balked under the gaze of her boyfriends mother.

"Ginny, doesn't say much either." Though Ron was sure she was lying. "I mean…she talks about Harry a lot, but she's never referred to him as her boyfriend or anything."

"I think that much is implied," Bill put in, looking at his mother. "Honestly Mum, you know Ginny, and Harry. You can't be oblivious to the way they look at each other."

"I'm not!" Molly insisted. "That's why I'm asking, they seem very _serious_ for a couple that haven't been together that long. Are they serious about each other?"

"Well, they were together in our sixth year Mrs Weasley." Hermione commented hesitantly. "And the only reason they split up was because Harry didn't want to endanger Ginny. He used to talk about her, in his sleep, when we were camping for all those months, worrying about her. I don't think being apart was ever really an option for them, after the battle, I think they just slowly picked up where they left off."

"I áve not known Ginny as long as you all áve," Fleur said slowly. "But I zink I know a 'appy young woman when I see one. And, after everything of this year, zey do seem very 'appy when zey are togezer."

"That's the point isn't it Mum," Ron put in. "After everything that's happened, if being together makes them happy, then who are we to judge?"

Hermione looked at him in shock.

"Ronald Weasley I do believe that's the most mature thing I've ever heard you say."

"Yeah, well, it happens sometimes." Ron retorted.

"I wish I could stay here with you," Ginny sighed in the sitting room, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and holding on as tightly as she could, as if it would prevent her from having to leave.

"You know I want that too," Harry sighed into her sweet smelling hair that he had missed so much. "You have no idea how much I wish it was you waiting at home for me at the end of the day instead of Ron. You're so much prettier than him."

"Who says I'd be waiting at home for you Potter?" Ginny jabbed teasingly. "I'd be off playing international Quidditch."

"Who would look after our eight children then?" Harry asked in mock horror and Ginny flinched.

"Eight!" She exclaimed. "Be serious Harry!"

"Fine, five then." He laughed.

"Three," Ginny said firmly. "After I'm done being a brilliant Quidditch player and winning the world cup for England."

Harry sighed, his face downcast.

"What's wrong?" She asked worriedly, running a hand over his face, pausing to lovingly caress his cheek.

"Well if we have to wait until after you're done being brilliant at Quidditch, we're never having children."

She laughed loudly.

"You are a charmer Harry Potter."

They were silent for several minutes except for the sounds of their jagged breathing as their lips moved against each other's.

"Do you think about the future much Harry?" Ginny asked, leaning her cheek against his chest.

"What's that?" He asked, thoroughly distracted by the view her current position was giving him, right down her jumper.

"I mean, I know you were joking before, but, do you really expect me to be waiting at home for you, dinner on the table, when you get home from work? Is that the kind of future you want for us?"

"Of course not Ginny! You're far to brilliant for that."

"My mum's a brilliant witch too, but she stayed home and looked after us."

"And that was her choice. And you'll have a choice too. Whatever you want to do, I'll support you," he grinned at her. "One of the benefits of having a filthy rich husband."

Ginny hesitated, playing with the cuff of Harry's jumper.

"What is it Gin?" He asked. "Come on, you know we can talk about anything."

"Are we getting married then? Is that were you see this going?"

Harry's heart leaped into his chest at her words, immediately distracted from the rather brilliant view he had of her décolletage. This was just the opportunity he had been waiting for since their morning together on September first. He weighed his words carefully.

"Ginny, I'd have married you over the summer if I could've. Practically, I know we have other things to be focussing on right now, but I promise you, as soon as we can, and as soon as you'll have me, I'm going to ask you to be mine, officially, forever."

"I want to say that I'm not your property but I can't bring myself to do it," Ginny smiled. "I love you Harry, I can't wait to be your wife."

"I love you Ginny. Happy Christmas."

Their lips met again, as if they were trying to get their fill of each other before she had to leave for Hogwarts in only a few days time.

From the doorway to the kitchen Bill Weasley looked at his mother as he wrapped his arms around his wife.

"Does that answer your question Mum?"

Mrs Weasley looked at her adopted son and her daughter and bit her lip against the tears that were welling in her eyes.

"Yes, it does."

* * *

_I wrote this chapter in 2007, not long after I put down Deathly Hallows after finishing it for the first of many times. This scene, and the love and happiness of the Weasley family in it, have been with me for a long time. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have. Only a short chapter I know, but I have a small Bill and Fleur outtake on offer to everyone who reviews to make up for it. The outtake is set about two months before Christmas and will explain any unanswered questions you have about my version of the oldest Weasely brother and his wife._

_Fic Rec: After the End by Sugar Quill_

_Absolutely one of the best HP fanfics I've ever read. It was written before Order of the Phoenix was published, so it's now AU, but it's so amazingly written and so utterly believable that you won't care. If you haven't read this, please consider doing so. It's ridiculously long, but you'll enjoy every word._

_Thank you again for reading. Chapter Eight will be posted within the week._

_SR._


	8. Chapter 8 - By Some Miracle

**Name: **By Some Miracle

**Date: **January 15th 1999

**Rating:** M

**Genre: **Romance

**Please Note:** This chapter is rated M. It contains explicit descriptions of sexual situations. If this is something you are uncomfortable with, feel free to skip this chapter. If you PM me I'll give you a (clean) synopsis of the chapters content.

* * *

"_What a happy and holy fashion is it that those who love one another should rest on the same pillow."_

_Nathaniel Hawthorne_

Wand dangling lazily from one hand, Harry lay slumped sideways over an armchair. It was early Saturday morning and he'd not long woken up after coming off a double shift at the Auror office the night before. The flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was empty, save for Pig, who slept peacefully in his cage. Ron's shift had started as Harry's ended and they had spoken briefly in the corridors of the Auror office before Harry had stepped into the fireplace, feeling too tired to Apparate and not wanting to risk splinching himself.

He'd returned to the flat and immediately fallen asleep for a solid ten hours. Upon waking he'd showered, dressed and had eaten a slice of bread in place of a proper breakfast. He'd slumped into his favorite armchair, unwilling to face the piles of paperwork awaiting him. Half an hour later, there he still was, gazing into out of space, lost in his thoughts and enjoying a rare moment of quiet in his once again hectic life.

Since starting at the Auror office four months ago, Harry's life had been consumed by work. Despite his belief that he would be trained before being sent out on the job, the Ministry remained so short of staff that Harry, Ron and the three other new recruits that had joined the Auror department were immediately sent out to work. Their time was devoted to rounding up the remaining escaped Death Eaters and working to increase the protection around Azkaban since the Dementors had fled after Lord Voldermort's downfall. More concerning, was the frequent attempted uprisings of budding Dark Wizard's, all looking to capitalize on the weakness of the Ministry and the vacancy left by the downfall of Lord Voldermort and his followers. To Harry, who had hoped rather than believed that peace would reign after the demise of the Dark Lord, these resurgences of Dark Magic were particularly disturbing.

"At least we're getting paid to fight Dark Magic this time round mate," Ron had joked after one particularly close call with a young wizard from Argentina, in which Harry had lost an eyebrow and Ron a finger, until a trip to St. Mungo's had restored the digit and brow.

It was rare for Harry to have a Saturday off and he'd been looking forward to this day for weeks. Gryffindor was playing Ravenclaw that afternoon and Ginny was hoping to lead her team to victory in only her second match as Captain. Harry hadn't been able to make her first match against Hufflepuff, and though his old house had decimated their rivals within twenty minutes, Harry had still felt badly about missing it. By all accounts Ginny had been a brilliant captain, and he knew from past experience she was an even better Chaser and he couldn't wait to experience it first hand.

His thoughts were thus occupied when a sudden burst of green flames from the fireplace caught his attention. Looking around, he saw Angelina's face outlined in the coals.

"Hi Angelina," he scrambled upright in the armchair, surprised.

"Hi Harry," her voice was pained and Harry was instantly concerned. It was only a week to go until Angelina was due to have the baby and Harry, who hadn't seen her for a week, couldn't possibly imagine that she wouldn't burst at the seams before then.

"Do you want to talk to George?" He asked her.

"I'm not sure theirs time for that," she gave a short, unamused laugh. "I'm already at St. Mungo's. Could you get George here Harry, before he misses the birth altogether?"

"Crap!" Harry exclaimed, springing to his feet and turning in an entirely useless circle. "He'll be there in a minute Ange, I promise!"

"George!" Harry yelled, running full pelt down the stairs. "George! Come quickly!"

"Harry?" George emerged from the storeroom where he had been taking inventory before the store opened.

"You need to get to St. Mungo's, Angelina's already there, the baby's coming!"

George gaped at him, apparently unable to comprehend Harry's words.

"George! You need to go to St. Mungo's," Harry urged and still George blinked at him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Harry reached forward, grasped George's forearm and turned on the spot.

They appeared with a pop in the foyer of the wizarding hospital and Harry, seeing that George still appeared to have not fully comprehended what was about to occur, spoke to the witch at the front desk to obtain directions to the appropriate ward.

A medi-witch was waiting to great them.

"Mr. Weasley?" She queried, her eyes darting between Harry and George uncertainly.

"This is George Weasley," Harry pushed his still stunned friend forward.

"Mr. Weasley, your wife's labor is progressing rapidly. It's best we get you inside, you'll be a father within the hour I believe."

George paled visibly under his freckles.

"Harry…I don't think I'm ready for this…" he stammered, looking at Harry beseechingly.

"I think you should have thought of that nine months ago mate," Harry clapped his older friend on the shoulder. "Now are you going to get in there and look after your wife and meet your baby or am I going to have to hex you?"

With an expression torn somewhere between terror and anticipation, George made to follow the medi-witch.

"Harry….mum and dad?"

"I'll owl them right now," Harry promised with a smile. "Go!"

After asking for directions and borrowing a scrap of parchment and a quill, Harry wrote to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, urging them to come as quickly as they could. Then, because this was a Weasley family matter and if he had learnt anything of that family over the years it was that they were stronger when they were all together, Harry wrote to Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron also.

Leaving a Galleon on the front desk to make up for the parchment and ink he'd used, Harry made his way back to the ward Angelina was in, whistling all the way. It was, he decided, pleasant to be in St. Mungo's for such a happy reason, instead of for some hideous injury as he had in the past. He considered calling in on Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom to say hello, but wary of the time, continued on his way.

He reached the ward only minutes before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived, looking somewhat flustered and very out of breath.

"Any news Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she drew him into a hug, despite the face he'd seen her at the Ministry less than two days previously.

"Not yet," Harry shook Mr. Weasley's proffered hand. "The Medi-witch said it didn't look like being long though. I owled Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron."

"Not Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley inquired.

"I'm going to watch her play this afternoon," Harry explained. "I'm hoping to have good news for her by then."

Bill and Fleur arrived before long, followed by Percy and Audrey. An owl arrived from Ron, saying he would attempt to come to St. Mungo's on his lunch break and another from Charlie announcing his intention to come once he finished work. Mrs. Weasley was a bundle of nerves as she paced the corridors, glancing between the door to Angelina's room and the clock suspended on the wall.

Just over two hours after Angelina had first appeared in the fireplace, George pushed open the doors, tears streaming down his face, an unbelievably tiny bundle wrapped in blue clutched firmly in his arms.

"Come and meet my son," he gasped through unrelenting tears. "He's so beautiful…"

The Weasley family surged forward, tears in every eye as they looked down into the tiny, peaceful face. The combination of Angelina's dark skin and the nose and jaw line the twins had shared were evident in the little face, as it yawned hugely, burrowing against his fathers chest.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed, reaching out to stroke the tiny cheek. "Oh Georgie…. How's Angelina?"

"She's a trooper," George smiled through his tears, unable to tear his eyes from his son's. "The Medi-witch is making her comfortable now, you can go in and see her soon. I love her so much Mum, I can't even tell you how much I love her."

"Have you decided on a name, Son?" Arthur asked, looking suspiciously bright eyed. "A handsome little man like this needs a special name."

"Fred," George gasped, his tears beginning anew. "Fredrick George Weasley."

Tears came from every eye now, unashamed as they spilt down every cheek.

"I wish he were here so much Mum," George lowered his head to his son's forehead, brushing his lips reverently across the baby-soft skin there.

"He is here Georgie," Mrs. Weasley whispered. "And he's so, so proud of you."

* * *

Harry had a spring in his step as he walked up from the Apparition point towards the Quidditch pitch. He had left the hospital with only enough time to Apparate back to his flat, collect his Gryffindor scarf and then leave for Hogsmeade. He couldn't wait to tell Ginny that she was an Aunt and he was looking forward to seeing her fly again, despite the nerves that he felt for her.

Approaching Hogwarts as a visitor was a new experience for Harry, who hadn't been back to his former home since the days immediately after the Battle. He was relieved to see the castle returned to its former grandeur, rather than the battle scene it had resembled after the war. The sight of students streaming out of the Entrance Hall towards the Quidditch pitch was both familiar and welcoming. At the same time, however, Harry felt a little out of place. The castle, which had, for so long been his home, was no longer the place of security and comfort it had once been. Too much blood had been spilt upon these lawns; too many screams had wrought this very air. He wondered if he would ever be able to walk through the hallways of the great building without thoughts of who had fallen where, which spell had nearly hit him in each spot. That Ginny and so many of the others were strong enough to face those memories every day was incredible to Harry. He still loved Hogwarts, he always would, but it would never be the stronghold it had once been to him.

Harry moved against the flow of foot traffic, into the castle. As a visitor to Hogwarts he had to report to the Headmistress before going down to the pitch. He tried to tell himself he was oblivious to the stares of his former classmates and underclassmen, but could not help but quicken his step before any could stop him.

The stone gargoyles that stood guard outside the Headmistress's office had obviously been expecting him, as they jumped aside the moment he paused in front of them. Harry was overwhelmed with nostalgia as he travelled the spiral staircase and his good mood had only increased by the time he knocked on the door to the inner sanctum of the Head of Hogwarts.

"Mr. Potter, come in," Professor McGonagall ushered him inside and indicated he take a seat.

"Thank you Professor," Harry looked around the Headmistresses office, noticing all the changes that had taken place since Dumbledore's tenure there had ended. The changes, though expected, were surprisingly difficult for Harry to digest.

"I know you'll be looking forward to the game, so I won't delay you," Professor McGonagall donned her own Gryffindor scarf, identical to Harry's. "Is Miss Weasley aware you are attending?"

"She is," Harry responded. "Though I have some news for her. Angelina had the baby this morning, a little boy, Frederick George."

"Oh how lovely," the Headmistresses eyes were surprisingly damp. "Though I must say it makes one feel quite elderly when their former students become grandparents. I daresay Molly and Arthur are thrilled?"

"Everyone is, no one as much as George I don't think," Harry smiled. "I don't know that little Fred will be put down until after his first birthday, the way everyone was fighting over holding him earlier."

"I would have you wait until after the match to inform Miss Weasley of her new Aunt-hood," Professor McGonagall requested. "I wouldn't want her distracted from the game. Not only am I rather eager for Gryffindor to win, but theirs something else Miss Weasley is unaware of. Several scouts from various Quidditch teams will be attending today's match. They are interested in recruiting Miss Weasley."

Harry broke into a broad grin. Over the Christmas break Ginny had confessed that her true hopes for a career after Hogwarts lay with Quidditch, though she wasn't sure at the time how realistic a hope that was. The fact that scouts were showing interest this early could only be good news.

"That's brilliant!" Harry exclaimed.

"It seems a shame to waste so much magical talent on sport," Professor McGonagall sniffed a little disdainfully. "Though one cannot deny that Miss Weasley is undeniably extremely talented and any Quidditch team would be lucky to have her. I rather fear that the Ministry might rue her absence from their ranks however."

"The Ministry would be lucky to have her," Harry agreed. "Though honestly, I'd much rather have her safe fifty feet in the air on a rickety piece of wood." Professor McGonagall laughed and Harry decided that this was as good a time as any to push his luck. "I was wondering Professor, if Ginny agrees…if she might be allowed to come to London with me tonight? I know her family would love to see her, and she'll be desperate to meet the baby. She could be back tomorrow evening before dinner."

Professor McGonagall regarded him quizzically and for a moment, Harry felt as if she was trying to stare straight through him.

"Miss Weasley is of age," she responded eventually. "And under the circumstances I don't believe it would be inappropriate for her to visit with her family."

"Thank you very much Professor," Harry couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. "It will mean so much to Mrs. Weasley to have everyone there this evening."

"Yes, well, don't mention it Potter," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "We best make our way down to the match, we don't want to miss the beginning."

The trickle of students making their way out to the match when Harry had earlier arrived had turned into a steady stream of bodies, all garbed either in Gryffindor scarlet and gold or Ravenclaw blue and bronze. Walking with the Headmistress gave Harry the additional protection of appearing completely unapproachable and though he would have liked to sit with the students, their was some relief in taking his seat between Professor McGonagall and a beaming Hagrid.

As much as he enjoyed exchanging pleasantries with his former professors, from the moment Ginny led the team onto the pitch, Harry's attention was focused solely on her. Even from the uppermost stands Harry could read the determination written all over her face as she gave her team their final instructions and they took to the air.

For the first time ever, Harry was able to sit back and simply enjoy the sight of Ginny flying. On the Firebolt III he had given her as a birthday gift the year previously she streaked through the air, immediately taking control of the game and schooling the Ravenclaw Keeper as she scored several goals successively. It was easy to see that she was clearly a class above every other player flying that day and Harry was equally proud and worried, as he watched her throw her body into every contest.

Forty minutes into the match, Gryffindor was leading 190-80, mainly thanks to Ginny's superb Chasing skills. The Ravenclaw captain called a timeout and Harry took the opportunity to stand and stretch his aching muscles. As he sat back down he caught sight of the four strangers, each with quill and parchment in hand, taking notes from their position some four rows in front of him. His heart lurched with nerves for Ginny, though he knew, with the way she had been playing, he had nothing to worry about.

The game began again and as the weather grew worse and the pale sliver of winter sun started to rapidly disappear as night threatened to fall. Harry silently urged Dennis Creevey, the new Seeker for Gryffindor, to search harder for the Snitch so he could get Ginny to St. Mungo's before visiting hours finished.

His wish was granted when, not twenty minutes after the timeout, Dennis dived suddenly. The Gryffindor fans, Harry amongst them, screamed him on and when he rose through the air, Snitch clasped firmly in hand, victorious, Harry cheered as loud as any of the rest. Gryffindor had won 370-140.

Because of his positions at the very top of the stands it took Harry some time to make it to Ginny, where she was celebrating with her team in the middle of the pitch. Finally, he pushed his way through a gaggle of excited second year boys and came face to face with his girlfriend.

"Harry!" She cried, flinging herself into his arms, uncaring of their audience. "You're here!"

"I told you I wouldn't miss it this time," Harry chuckled, reveling in the feeling of having her in his arms again. "You were brilliant."

"Can you stay?" She asked, motioning towards the castle, as the crowd carried them in that direction.

"I can't and either can you," Harry grinned at her and pulled her to a stop in the middle of the path. "I have some news for you. You're an Aunty."

"Angelina?" Ginny's eyes widened. "Is everyone okay?"

"Everyone's fine," Harry reassured her. "George said Angelina did really well. You have a nephew, Fredrick George Weasley."

"Oh," Ginny's eyes blurred with tears and she clutched Harry a little tighter. "Oh I wish I was there with everyone."

"You can be," Harry smiled at her, fumbling in his pocket for his handkerchief and giving it to her to dry her eyes. "I spoke with McGonagall before the game, she's given you leave to come with me this evening and return tomorrow night."

"Anything for the Chosen One," Ginny teased. "Harry, you're wonderful. Give me half an hour to pack a few things and we can be gone."

* * *

A little over an hour later, Harry and Ginny stepped through the wards of St. Mungo's. Harry teased Ginny about the delay, though privately he appreciated that she'd taken the time to shower and change out of her Quidditch robes. She smelt so lovely that he couldn't resist lowering his head to sniff her every so often.

Angelina's room was a flurry of red headed bodies, intermingling with the dark skin of Angelina's family. George was the first to notice them.

"About time you got here," he laughed teasingly, his eyes alight with a happiness Harry couldn't recall seeing on his face in years. "Finally decided to meet your nephew have you?"

"George," Ginny protested, drawing her brother into a tight embrace. "Congratulations, big brother."

"Thanks, Sis," George bestowed a loud smacking kiss against her forehead and turned to shake Harry's hand. "Thanks for earlier mate, don't know what I would have done without you."

"You can return the favor one day mate," Harry laughed and suddenly, for a moment, the room fell silent. Harry flushed, realizing that while he and Ginny spoke quite regularly of their future together, their family never would have heard it discussed quite so casually. The moment of awkwardness passed quickly however, as Ginny demanded to meet her nephew.

"You'll have to fight Grandma Weasley and Grandma Johnson for him," George laughed, deftly taking the baby from his mother in law's arms and handing him directly to his younger sister. "They'll fight to the death for a cuddle of this little champ."

"I can't say I blame them," Ginny murmured, running a reverent finger down the baby's cheek. "He's so beautiful guys."

The picture Ginny presented in that moment, her face a picture of serenity as she cradled the baby in her arms overcame Harry. For a split second he found himself wishing that baby Freddie was theirs, a little Potter, his and Ginny's, made from love and so treasured by their entire family. He had no doubt that Ginny would be a brilliant mother. For the first time in his life, Harry found himself wishing he could fast forward to the future, to a time when that dream was not just possible, but real.

The urge to beg her to marry him became almost overwhelming in that moment.

The spell was soon broken as Ginny was told off for hogging the baby and he was transferred to the waiting arms of another of his many family members.

It wasn't long before a Medi-nurse came in and shooed the family out so mother and child could both rest. George was staying over night, reticent as he was to be away from his new family. Ron informed Harry that he was working the night shift again that evening and wouldn't be home until the next morning, as they departed, Ginny hugged her parents' goodbye.

"Thank Minerva for letting you come, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said, wrapping her daughter in her arms. "It meant so much to have you all here today."

Harry looked at Ginny in confusion over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. He was sure he had told her that Professor McGonagall had given her permission to be away from Hogwarts from the night. His confusion mounted as she winked cheekily at him from over her mother's shoulder.

Harry hung back until the entire Weasley family had departed and then approached his girlfriend. He had no idea what she was up to, but knowing her as he did, he wasn't entirely sure it was going to end well for him.

"Ginny…"

"Not a word, Harry," she pressed a finger against his lips. "Take me home with you."

* * *

Harry flushed bright red with embarrassment as Ginny took in the mess that was the flat he and Ron shared. The combination of laziness and not spending a lot of time at home resulted in housekeeping being fairly low down both Harry and Ron's priority lists. For Harry, it had been liberating. The Dursley's had always forced him to keep a clean house for them, and, at Hogwarts, the house elves had done it for them. Here, nobody cared whether his bedroom was messy or clean, or whether there were dishes in the sink or not. He hadn't, however, anticipated Ginny seeing the flat this way.

"Erh… it doesn't always look like this," he muttered, kicking a pair of old socks under the couch hastily.

"No, I imagine often it's much worse," Ginny grinned at him, winding her arms around his waist and pushing her body up against his very alluringly.

"I would have cleaned up had I known you were coming," Harry murmured against her lips.

"Harry, I don't care about how the flat looks," she told him. "I just want to spend some time with you."

"I thought you would have wanted to go back to the Burrow with your mum and dad," Harry fisted his hands into her hair, tugging gently to pull her head back so he could run his lips down her throat. "I know you've missed them."

"I've missed you too," she sighed as he suckled gently on her collarbone. "And I've missed you in a very different way to how I miss my family. I couldn't wait to be alone with you."

"You're alone with me now, Miss Weasley," Harry teased as he nibbled on her earlobe, marveling at the silky sweetness of her skin. "What are you going to do with me?"

Pulling away from Harry, Ginny smiled saucily at him.

"I think I'd like to see your bedroom Mr. Potter,"

Harry's heart leaped into his chest as he led her in the direction of his bedroom. He hardly spent any time in there, so it wasn't quite as chaotic as the rest of the house, still, he muttered a silent cleaning spell as he walked in. He tried not to read too much into Ginny's words, not wanting to leap to any incorrect conclusions. They had never discussed taking their relationship to the next level and Harry tried to tell himself that just because Ginny had expressed a desire to see his bedroom, didn't mean she was trying to tell him she wanted them to make love.

He turned to face her nervously, unsure of what to do next.

Ginny it seemed, had no such uncertainties.

"I want to spend the entire night in your arms Harry," she told him softly, caressing his cheek with her hand. "I'm just going to go and get changed into my pajamas."

Before Harry could speak, she disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind herself.

Harry darted around his bedroom, grabbing up armfuls of clothes that had been lying on the ground and throwing them into his wardrobe. He quickly cast a cleaning charm over his sheets and hoped that it would do.

He hesitated, staring at his usual pajamas, consisting only of a pair of boxer shorts with a Gryffindor lion on them that roared every so often. Unsure what the proper etiquette was in such a situation, he quickly pulled them on, leaving his white t-shirt on also.

He pulled down the bed covers, and then pulled them back up again, not wanting to appear over eager. He stared uncertainly at the bed, wishing he knew what the proper thing to do in such a situation was. Eventually, as he heard the running water from the bathroom turn off, Harry gave up and pulled the sheets back again. He reclined against the pillows, attempting to look casual and ignore his traitorous pounding heart.

Ginny came in then and with a shy smile she closed the bedroom door behind her. Harry's mouth went dry at the sight of her. She was dressed only in a pair of lacy white knickers and a Gryffindor t-shirt and as she stood beside him next to the bed, she was his most erotic dream come true.

He reached out for her hand, pulling her closer to him and burying her face into the soft material covering her belly. Her arms wrapped around him, her fingers running gently through his hair and Harry groaned.

"Do you have any idea how enticing you are Ginny Weasley?" He murmured to her, as her nails continue to massage his scalp. "Or how difficult it is for me to resist you?"

"So stop resisting," she replied in a whisper, her hands stilling their ministrations as Harry's head flew off her belly to stare at her as he tried to process her words.

"Stop?" He choked, disbelieving.

"Stop," she murmured, a blush spreading over her cheeks.

"Are you sure?" He asked her, thinking back on their last several encounters, most of which had happened over the Christmas break. Despite the Burrow having been full to capacity, they had created multiple opportunities to be alone, and as their intimacy had increased, it had become increasingly difficult for Harry to stop when they reached a certain point. To not have to stop, to consummate their relationship… the thought alone sent a powerful tremor of desire shooting through him.

"I'm yours Harry, I always have been," she smiled shyly at him, blushing. "I've never been surer or anything in my life."

Harry's heart beat furiously in his chest as he reached for her again. He ran his hands up and down her exposed forearms, marveling at the goosebumps his touch created. He pulled her onto the bed suddenly, making her squeal with laughter. Harry grinned at her, reveling in the moment of levity, before he bent his head to kiss her.

Harry's tongue begged for entrance to Ginny's mouth and he reveled in the sweet, floral taste of her. The kiss escalated quickly, as hands roamed freely and Harry crushed Ginny beneath his body. She managed to get her legs free, wrapping them around his body and they both groaned at the friction her movements created. Harry's shirt went flying over the bed, shortly followed by Ginny's and Harry thought that the feeling of their bare skin pressed so tightly together might be the most exquisite thing he had ever felt in his life.

Harry was sure he was going out of his mind with pleasure as his lips roamed freely down her neck, across her collar bones and down her chest, to taste the hardened peaks of her dusky pink nipples. Ginny's back arched off the bed and she moaned his name, as her fingers wound their way into his hair, holding him firmly in place as he lapped and suckled at her.

He broke her hold of him, kissing down her stomach and pausing at the lace of her knickers. He looked up then, taking in the sensual picture she presented, her fiery hair splayed out messily around her, her eyes dark with arousal, her cheeks flushed with it. She ground her hips against him and Harry took that as permission to slowly, reverently, slide her knickers down her thighs, over her knees and off her body all together.

He paused at the sight before him, uncomfortably aroused as he gazed at her most intimate of flesh. She squirmed below him, whether out of desire or embarrassment, Harry was unsure. Her scent was headier there, and as Harry tasted her, Ginny's near scream of pleasure urged him on. It wasn't until she was quaking beneath him and moaning incoherently that Harry decided he couldn't hold off any longer. His eyes rolled back in his head as he found himself fully enveloped by Ginny's warmth. He had never imagined anything could feel quite so good. This was life.

This was love.

"I love you," he murmured hoarsely, pressing his lips against the skin of her neck feverishly. "Oh God, Ginny, I love you."

"I know," she smiled weakly, gripping tighter to his shoulders, her breath coming out in short, sharp bursts. "That's why we're here."

"Are you alright?" He ground out, desperately fighting the desire to drive himself harder, deeper, faster inside of her.

"I'm okay," she whispered, hiding her face against his neck. "I'll _be_ okay… I just need a second."

Harry held himself as still as he possibly could, hating that Ginny was in so much pain while he had never experienced more pleasure. He bent his head to her lips and kissed her tenderly, trying to pour every feeling, every ounce of love he had for her into the kiss. Eventually, she began to relax underneath him by degrees and their bodies fell into the rhythm of their kiss.

Harry could hardly hold off, try as he might, desperate as he was to take Ginny with him. He tore his lips away from hers and back to her breasts, suckling her greedily. His hands gripped at her hips, tilting them upwards, making her moan louder and then he moved his hands to the nub of her pleasure and within moments they both fell over the precipice, calling each other's names and drifting together in the others arms, into oblivion.

* * *

Having not had the presence of mind to draw the curtains the night before, Harry awoke with the sun. For a moment he was confused as to why he was naked and then he caught the flash of red hair and the floral scent he was so in love with and the memories of the night before came flooding back to him.

Propping himself up on his elbow, Harry gazed down at the sleeping witch beside him, marveling at her beauty and the gift she had given him the night before. Curled up on her side, her hair falling haphazardly around her face, her beautiful body exposed to the waist, Harry could imagine nothing except waking up to this very sight every day for the rest of his life. That she had to return to Hogwarts that very day seemed grossly unfair after what they had shared the night before, that their future was still uncertain after her graduation seemed less fair still.

As he stroked her hair away from her face he wondered how he would survive the coming separation. She would return to Hogwarts until Easter, and then again until June. After that, as plans currently stood Ginny would return to the Burrow and consider her options, and Harry would remain living in the flat above the shop.

That, especially in light of what they had shared the night before, was completely unacceptable to Harry.

He just wished he knew what he could do to change it.

Ginny stirred in her sleep, her face furrowing for a moment, before relaxing again as Harry ran a gentle hand down her arm. He loved this woman, he had known it for a long time but in that moment, the depth of his feelings for her overwhelmed him, bringing tears to his eyes. He had missed her, would continue to miss her, until they could spend some part of every day together, and every night beside each other. He was awed by her; her beauty, her brilliance, her incredible talent and most of all, her huge heart, that, by some miracle, she had gifted to him. This amazing woman was the key to his future. When he pictured the next several years it was with her by his side, her love filling his life. Together they would create the family he had so long desired and they would make a home, somewhere for him to be always. And he couldn't wait.

He couldn't wait…

"Good morning," a sleepy voice from beside him startled Harry. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts, he hadn't noticed Ginny stirring into wakefulness.

"Good morning beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. "How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful," she stretched lazily in the manner of a cat and smiled at him, running a hand through his hair. "I feel amazing. I wish I could sleep beside you every night."

"Marry me," Harry blurted out. Her words were so in line with his own desires that he couldn't hold them back. "Marry me Ginny, please."

Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open in shock and for a moment, she didn't answer.

"Harry," she said at last. "You don't have to…because of last night. I knew… I wasn't expecting…"

"This isn't about last night Ginny," he told her, capturing her head between his hands and forcing her to look him in the eye. "I've messed this up… I knew I would. Last night, Ginny…it was the best night of my life and I'm not asking because I think you have any expectations, or because I feel like I have to. I'm asking because I love you…so much and all I want is to spend the rest of my life with you. I wasn't planning on asking you yet, I was going to wait until you got back from Hogwarts in June, but I can't wait Ginny, I don't want to wait. I want the world to know your mine and I'm yours and I want to start the rest of our lives together. Here…" at this he scrambled away from her, digging furiously in the drawer of his bedside table for the small velvet covered box he'd placed their after a trip to Gringott's some months ago. He opened the box, revealing the antique diamond ring inside and Ginny gasped. "This was my grandmother's I think, but I want to make it yours. Please Ginny, I love you, I love you so much, please say you'll marry me?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears flooding her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. "Yes of course I'll marry you Harry."

Harry kissed her then, before slipping the ring onto her shaking hands. He crushed her in his embrace, the monster in his chest roaring with triumph as he rained kisses over her body.

"I love you," he told her hoarsely, not embarrassed in the least by the tears that swam in his eyes.

"I love you," she replied, grinning. "Can you believe we're getting married and we've never even gone on a date?"

"When have I ever done anything the traditional way?" Harry asked, laughing also. "You're going to be a Potter, Ginevra Weasley, you're going to have to learn to do things in a way that's a bit out of the ordinary."

"It'll be worth it to be your wife," she captured his lips with hers again and as their bodies melded together again, Harry didn't know when he'd ever been happier.

* * *

_I hadn't intended to have Harry propose this chapter, but he wouldn't listen. No matter how I wrote it, each and every time our hero insisted on making Miss Weasley his. _

_The following chapter is a short glimpse of the morning after, as Harry and Ginny inform their loved ones of their engagement. All those that review will receive a short sneak peak._

_Thank you for reading, please let me know what you thought._

_SR. _


	9. Chapter 9 - Banni Nuptiarum

**Name: **Banni Nuptiarum

**Date: **January 16th 1999

**Rating:**

**Genre: **Romance/Family

* * *

"_When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."_

_- Nora Ephron_

Harry and Ginny had just drifted off to sleep after yet another round of lovemaking when a loud pop from the entryway alerted Harry to their company. Before he could react and while Ginny slept on comfortably, wrapped in his arms, Ron, still dressed in his Auror robes, threw open the door to Harry's bedroom talking at a rapid pace.

"You'll never guess the night I had mate, the pricks from…Merlin!"

Harry scrambled upright in bed, pushing the sheets onto the now awake Ginny to ensure she was covered. Ron's mouth was hanging open, his face turning a particularly unbecoming shade of puce that was not dissimilar to the color worn so often by Harry's Uncle Vernon.

The three stared at each other, Harry and Ginny red faced with mortification, Ron with eyes bulging out of his head as he struggled to come to grips with the sight before him.

"Uh…mate, do you think you could…you know? Give us a moment to get dressed?" Harry asked, unwilling to so much as reach for his wand on the off chance that it might dislodge the sheet, exposing one of them to Ron's gaze.

Ron opened and closed his mouth several times, before turning, stalking out of Harry's bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

Harry turned to Ginny, apologetic.

"Sorry, he often does that. I never even thought of casting a locking charm…"

"We have nothing to be ashamed of Harry," Ginny said, reaching for her clothes and trying not to smile as Harry ogled her naked form. "We have every right to do whatever we want and we have some very exciting news to share. Lets get dressed and we can tell Ron."

"He's your brother Gin," Harry moaned, searching for a clean pair of underwear. "And my best mate. We'll be lucky to ever make love again once he's done with me."

"Don't worry you big scaredy cat, I'll protect you," Ginny laughed, wrapping her arms around Harry's half naked body.

"You might have to," Harry said ominously.

"I am not letting my git of a brother ruin this day," Ginny told him. "He'll be happy for us or he'll be on the receiving end of one of my Bat Boogey Hexes."

"I'm so glad you agreed to marry me," Harry smiled adoringly at her, bestowing a small kiss on the tip of her nose. "But we better get out there, we don't want to push Ron's temper much further."

Both fully dressed and decent, Harry and Ginny walked out of the bedroom, hand in hand. Ron was seated at the small dining table he and Harry had procured some months ago, banging his head repeatedly against the hard surface.

"My eyes," he groaned at them, glaring daggers. "Honestly you two, give a guy some warning. I might never recover from what I saw this morning you know."

"You didn't see anything Ron," Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Stop over-reacting."

"Over reacting?" He yelped, his eyes bugging out of his head. "My baby sister… and my best mate…"

"Are getting married," Ginny cut him off, pulling Harry towards Ron. "Harry asked me this morning and I said yes." She dangled her ring in front of Ron's face as proof.

Ron's eyes bulged out of his head for the second time that morning, as he took in the glistening diamond on his sister's finger.

"Married?" He croaked, as if he had never before heard of such a concept. "My baby sister and my best mate…getting married?"

Harry could only nod, grinning stupidly. He wasn't sure when he'd ever felt so much happiness.

"Married?" Ron croaked again, as if he had never heard of such a concept. "Like…married?"

"Married," Harry confirmed again, his smile turning somewhat apologetic. "I was going to let you know…I was planning on waiting until June to ask, but…I couldn't wait."

"Married," Ron repeated, his eyes suspiciously watery. "My best mate and my baby sister are getting married." His voice broke off on the last word.

"Aren't you going to congratulate us Ron?" Ginny asked tartly, rolling her eyes at her closest brother's emotional display.

"Congratulations," Ron sniffed, pulling them both into a tight hug. "You're never getting away from the Weasley's now mate."

"Wouldn't want to if I could," Harry replied. "Except Ginny will be a Potter."

"That's the second time so far you've mentioned me changing my name," Ginny crossed her arms at him, a frown that Harry could immediately see through crossing her features. "What if I want to hyphenate?"

"You'd really be Ginevra Molly Weasley-Potter?" Ron laughed. "I'm not sure I can see the Quidditch commentators keeping up with that, Gin. You'd already have scored before they'd finished saying you'd taken possession of the Quaffle."

"I couldn't give a Hinkypunk if you hyphenate your name, or even if you don't change it at all," Harry told Ginny, even though the idea of them sharing a name was quite an appealing one to him. "As long as you're mine in every way that counts I couldn't care less."

"Urgh," Ron crinkled his nose in disgust as Ginny and Harry smiled sappily at each other. "Give me a break you two, I've seen enough for one lifetime."

"We're going to the Burrow for lunch," Ginny informed her brother, completely ignoring his last statement. "Are you going to come?"

"I wouldn't miss it. Mum's going to have a litter of Kneazles," Ron seemed to perk up at the thought.

"Don't you worry Ronnie, it'll be your turn next," Ginny prophesized. "You should be thanking us, it might keep mum off your back about you and Hermione for a few months."

"Me?" Ron paled. "Don't be daft Ginny. That's ridiculous."

"I'm younger than you Ronnikins," Ginny grinned. "And you're older than Harry too. It's only a matter of time before Mum starts on you and Hermione."

"Starts on us about what?" Hermione appeared in the kitchen with the characteristic pop associated with Apparating.

"This," Ginny shoved her hand under Hermione's nose and watched in bemusement as both girls started screaming simultaneously, dancing from foot to foot and talking faster than Ginny's new broomstick could fly.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione threw herself into his arms. "Who knew you could be so romantic? Congratulations, I'm so happy for you both."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry struggled not to laugh at the look of confused astonishment on Ron's face.

"You'll be my maid of honor won't you?" Ginny asked Hermione. "It would mean a lot, to both of us."

"Of course I will," Hermione replied before promptly bursting into tears.

"See what you've started," Ron groaned, shaking his head at the crying females. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile so much mate, it's kind of off putting."

"I'm not going to apologize for it," Harry's grin stretched even further. "The woman I love just agreed to marry me, my best friends are happy together, I'm gaining a whole family, what's not to smile about?"

"If it wasn't for the fact that Ginny's my little sister I'd say that grin of yours might have something to do with the fact that you're finally getting some," Ron commented. "As it is though…" He gave a little shudder.

"Your mum is going to be so excited," Hermione sighed. "I can't wait to see her face."

"She might not be as excited as you would think," Ginny sighed. "Especially when she realizes that I spent the night. I'd sort of led her to believe I was heading back to Hogwarts last night."

"Oh," Hermione frowned. "Maybe she'll be so excited she won't realize?"

"She'll realize alright," Ron was almost gleeful. "And I can't wait to see what happens when she does."

* * *

Molly was indeed very surprised to see Ginny when she came strolling through the kitchen door of the Burrow later that morning, hand in hand with Harry.

"Ginny, what are you doing here dear? Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

"Mum, I have some very exciting news," Ginny completely ignored her mother's query and pulled an almost reluctant Harry forward. "Harry asked me to marry him this morning."

If Harry had been afraid of Mrs. Weasley's reaction it had been for naught. He had been prepared for arguments that they were too young, too hasty and not nearly mature enough. Instead, Mrs. Weasley's hand flew to her mouth, and for the first time that Harry could remember, she was speechless.

"I said yes of course," Ginny took her mother by the hand and smiling radiantly, showed off her ring. "It was Harry's grandmother's he thinks, isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley choked, a sob rising in her throat as she stared at Ginny's ring. "Oh my baby! My little girl, engaged!" She pulled Ginny into an embrace so tight that Harry winced in sympathy.

She turned to him next, crushing him in her arms and running her hands over his forehead and scar.

"My dear, sweet boy," she murmured almost incoherently. "Oh Harry…"

Harry detangled himself from her embrace a little reluctantly, grinning as she fussed over his hair.

"Is Mr. Weasley around, Mrs. Weasley? I'd like to speak with him alone for a moment,"

"He's in the shed, dear," Mrs. Weasley beamed at him, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. "You go right ahead, I'll make sure you're not interrupted. You want to ask for permission I expect. Such a sweet boy, so well mannered. Don't be afraid at all dear, Arthur will be as gentle as a Pygmy Puff."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"You don't need Dad's permission to marry me you know," she murmured against his lips, as she brushed a soft kiss over them. "You already have mine, and I'm pretty sure I'm the one with the final say."

"I know," Harry replied, struggling to keep his baser instincts in check and not deepen the kiss. "But I'd like to ask for his blessing all the same."

"The man welcomed you into his house and his family eight years ago, and continued to allow you to stay even when you were dating his only daughter, I'm reasonably certain you have his blessing."

"I shouldn't be gone long then," Harry smiled at her and slipped out of the kitchen, to the sound of Molly scolding Ginny in one breath then asking about possible wedding dates in the next.

Arthur welcomed Harry into the shed with a smile, laying down the remote control he had been fiddling with. Despite Arthur's promotion through the ranks of the Ministry after the Battle of Hogwarts, his fascination with all things Muggle had not decreased in the slightest. Before he could begin querying Harry about the purpose of the remote, Harry spoke –

"Mr. Weasley, I asked Ginny to marry me this morning," he blurted out. "I hadn't planned on asking her yet. I was going to wait until after she graduated in June and I was going to ask your permission, but I just…couldn't wait. She said yes," at this Harry couldn't help the grin that burst across his face. "But I wanted to ask you anyway."

"Harry this is wonderful news!" Arthur exclaimed, standing up and pulling Harry into a hug. "Congratulations."

"Are you sure?" Harry winced at the idiocy of his question. "I really _was_ going to wait until June. I don't want Ginny distracted from N.E.W.T.'s and I know this is going to be a distraction. I really did try to wait though."

"I trust my daughter enough Harry, to know that she will do what's best for herself. Whether it be focusing on planning an extravagant wedding or concentrating on her studies that's up to her," he looked at Harry sharply. "There's no rush to get married is there?"

"No," Harry flushed darkly as memories of Ginny's body writhing underneath him popped unbidden into his mind. "No rush at all."

"There was for Molly and me you know," Arthur said conversationally. "Molly likes to think the children don't know, but they can all do math and they all know that our wedding anniversary is only six months before Bill's birthday. I'm not ashamed of the fact that Bill was on the way when we were married though, because it only hastened the inevitable. I knew from the first time I kissed Molly that one day she would be my wife. The fact that perhaps we should have restrained ourselves to kisses, or learnt our charms better, is another matter entirely." Arthur regarded Harry with a ponderous look on his face. "I've known you since you were twelve years old Harry. Molly and I flatter ourselves in thinking that we had something to do with the man you've become. I know you love my daughter, and I know that you'll respect her and care for her your entire life. I can't ask for any more than that."

"You've had a lot to do with the man I am," Harry muttered, embarrassed by the lump in his throat. "More than anyone else in my life. And I do love Ginny. And I'll respect her and care for her…always, even when she doesn't want to let me."

"You don't need my permission to marry my daughter," Arthur told him. "But know that you have it anyway. There's no one else I'd trust with her."

"She'd kill us if she heard this conversation you know," Harry said conversationally, as he and Arthur made their way towards the Burrow.

"I know," Arthur replied, a twinkle in his eye. "Let me share with you something I've learnt about the Weasley women over the years, son. There's no hiding anything from them and sometimes, it's best to just take your potion, let the storm blow over and get on with life."

Mr. Weasley hugged Ginny tightly as she met them at the door to the kitchen.

"Congratulations baby girl,"

"Thanks Dad," Ginny smiled broadly. "Do you think you can tear Mum away from the calendar? She's determined to set a date, so far, I think we're going for a weekend in the middle of July."

"There's no rush you know," Harry told Ginny seriously. "We can get married tomorrow, or two years from now. Having that ring on your finger is enough for now."

"Don't let Mum hear you say that," Ginny warned with a laugh. "I just want to enjoy being engaged for a little while, let it sink in you know?"

"That's fine," Harry agreed. "I wasn't planning on asking you until June anyway, so we're already ahead of schedule."

Unable to help himself, Harry wound his arms around Ginny's waist and pulled her forward, until their bodies were flush against the others. As their lips moved together, Harry couldn't help but wish they were still happily ensconced under the covers of his bed. Now that he'd had a taste of making love to his fiancé, he didn't know that he'd ever want to do anything but…

"Now that was a view I didn't want to start my Sunday morning with,"

Harry went to pull his lips from Ginny's at the sound of her eldest brother's voice, but Ginny held fast to his hair, coaxing several more chaste kisses from him, before turning happily in his arms to greet Bill and Fleur.

* * *

"All of my babies settling down," Molly sighed happily over lunch, for at least the thirtieth time that day. "Well, except for one." She affixed Charlie with a steely glare.

Charlie rolled his eyes behind his mother's back and turned back to his potatoes, but to Harry at least, Charlie seemed wholly uncomfortable. He wondered errantly if Charlie did perhaps already have a girlfriend that the family had not yet met.

"We really ought to consider setting a date dear," Mrs. Weasley was addressing Ginny again. "You don't want to dally, there's so much to organize! And of course we have Percy and Audrey's wedding this summer as well." She beamed at her son and future daughter-in-law.

"Let's focus on Percy and Audrey for now," Ginny suggested, ignoring the glare this elicited from her soon to be sister-in-law.

"Oh, but there's so much to do!" Mrs. Weasley protested. "These things don't happen by themselves…"

"I think Ginny needs to concentrate on her N.E.W.T.'s right now, Mrs. Weasley," Harry put in. "That's got to be the priority until the summer at least."

"Oh but wouldn't you like a summer wedding, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley would not be deterred.

"Mum, I promise we'll make lots of grand wedding plans," Ginny reached out and laid a placating hand on her mothers arm. "Just not right now. Let us just be engaged for a while, yeah?"

"Oh I suppose," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "It's just that these things do take a while to come together you know. There was a six month wait on the celebrant for Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"We're in no rush Mum,"

"Thank Godric for that," Charlie chimed in, shooting a knowing look at his parents. Mrs. Weasley flushed and, to Harry's endless relief, quit the subject.

* * *

Despite Mrs. Weasley's protests, Ginny elected to Floo back to Hogwarts from Harry and Ron's flat. Harry had to work not long after lunch and Ginny admitted she had rather a lot of homework to be done by the next morning. Their interlude appeared to be at an end. The next Hogsmeade weekend seemed an insurmountable period of time away and neither knew how they would deal with the separation.

Hermione had enough tact to drag Ron away to allow Harry and Ginny a few moments of privacy to say their goodbyes. With his fiancé wrapped in his arms Harry was unsure how he was ever meant to let her go.

"I'll see you in less than a month," Harry reminded her.

"It's not that long till June," Ginny murmured. "We can do this."

"Anytime you miss me, just look at your ring, and remember how much I love you," Harry whispered into her hair, wishing he could fast forward through the next six months.

"I love you," Ginny replied, her eyes blazing fiercely as she stepped into the fireplace, disappearing before Harry's eyes before he could beg her to stay.

He stayed for several minutes, staring at the empty grate Ginny had disappeared from. After defeating the Dark Lord, Harry had believed that he would live every day of his life to the full. Watching the woman he loved leave for the next several months however, Harry wished he could go to bed until June, only to awaken when Ginny was home with him for good.

* * *

_I'm immensely sorry about the wait for this chapter. I won't offer any excuse except the hectic nature of life. As it is, I'm home today from work unwell, and took the opportunity to finish this off. Please excuse any errors and blame them on over-gratuitous use of flu medication._

_The title of this chapter is Latin and translates to 'the banns of matrimony.'_

_All those that review will receive a Ginny and Professor McGonagall excerpt that I couldn't get out of my head. _

_I'm hoping to have Chapter Ten posted by next weekend._

_Thank you all for taking the time to read and review, it means a lot._

_SR. _


	10. Chapter 10 - Confessions

**Name: **Confessions

**Date: **April 1st, 1999

**Rating:** M

**Genre: **Romance/Hurt-Comfort

* * *

"_If we knew each other's secrets, what comforts we should find.__"_

_- __John Churton Collins_

[/i]

* * *

Harry had decided weeks ago that meeting Ginny off the Hogwarts Express for Easter break was not a good idea. Instead, he was eagerly awaiting her return at the Burrow, pacing a hole in the floor of the sitting room and glancing eagerly at the Weasley Clock every few minutes, beyond frustrated to see that her arrow still pointed towards 'travelling'.

It had been only a week after Harry had proposed that the news of their engagement had become common knowledge. It had been front page news for ten days. How the press had found out about the engagement Harry was unsure, but he had a feeling the large diamond on Ginny's left hand may have had something to do with it.

In the end Harry, fed up with the constant media scrutiny and speculation, and on Hermione's advice, issued a short press release that Ginny had approved. The statement had simply confirmed that Harry had proposed and been accepted, that they were very happy, appreciated the public's best wishes, and were yet to set a wedding date. Despite Harry's best hopes, it hadn't worked, the speculation continued and even now, three months later, was yet to die down.

Glancing at his watch, Harry's pacing increased. The Hogwarts Express should have almost arrived by now and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny should be home at any minute. When the fireplace flared green, Harry stopped short, despite knowing that Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were Apparating back to the Burrow. When Charlie Weasley came through the fireplace, Harry stared in shock.

Charlie looked awful.

Of all the Weasley's, Harry had spent the least amount of time with Charlie. However, despite the lack of time, the pair had bonded over their mutual love of Quidditch and their equal share as Gryffindor's greatest Seeker in living memory. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Charlie had relocated to Wales and taken a position at a dragon reserve there, much to his mother's delight. But despite his much closer proximity to home, the Weasley's had seen Charlie almost as infrequently as they did when he was living in Romania.

"What in Godric's name happened to you?" Harry blurted out, more in the manner of his best friend than himself.

Charlie glared at him, slumping down in the chair closest to him and burying his head in his hands. Harry wished Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were already home, for surely _they _would know how to deal with this situation because he had absolutely no idea.

Summoning a glass and a bottle of Firewhiskey, Harry poured Charlie a sizable shot, before shoving it in his hands. He waited until his future brother in law had downed the liquid in one gulp, before pouring him another and saying simply –

"Talk."

"Who says I want to?" Charlie retorted, raising the glass to his lips again.

"Please," Harry snorted. "If you didn't want to talk the Burrow would be the last place you'd come."

Charlie glared at him again, mostly because Harry was right and Charlie did want to talk to someone, even if he wouldn't admit as much.

"I'm in love," Charlie bit out, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"And?" Harry tried not to smirk; he'd suspected something of this nature was going on with Charlie the weekend he had proposed to Ginny.

"It's never going to work," Charlie groaned, downing the rest of his Firewhiskey .

"Why not?"

"Because we can't….tell anyone. Mum and dad would never understand…or approve," Charlie sighed, his voice tapering off and Harry rather suspected that if the older man had have been alone, he would have been in tears.

"Why?" Harry was genuinely perplexed. Arthur and Molly Weasley were the most accepting, loving people he knew. He couldn't envision a single situation where they would not accept one of their children's partners, particularly if the Weasley in question was happy. "Is there something wrong with her?"

"It's just that," Charlie bit out, half in anger, half in despair. "It's not a her."

"Oh…"

Harry was genuinely gobsmacked. Never in a million years would he have even considered that Charlie might be gay. Rumor had it he'd been a renowned womanizer at Hogwarts and Harry had always assumed those habits had continued after he had graduated.

"So now you see why I can't do anything about it," Charlie spat bitterly. "Mum and Dad would never understand, never mind the rest of you and Drew…Drew refuses to be kept a secret, can't say I blame him really…"

"Hold on just a minute Charlie," Harry was more than a little offended. "I don't think you're giving any of us, especially your mum and dad, enough credit here. I mean everyone will be shocked of course, I'm shocked, but you can't think any body would react badly?"

"That's exactly what I think Harry," Charlie groaned. "Why do you think I've never told anybody?"

"You've never told anybody?" Harry echoed, unable to imagine denying such a vital piece of himself for so very long. A wave of sympathy crashed over him as he imagined what Charlie had gone through for so many years. "Charlie... I'm so sorry. That's awful."

"Well who was I meant to tell?" Charlie asked, a little despairingly. "Bill and I went through Hogwarts together and he's got years of memories of me sneaking girls up to the Astronomy Tour. He'd never understand that I was trying to convince myself that I was more interested in those dozens of girls than any of the boys in my dorm. Why do you think I chose to work in Romania all these years? Nobody knew me there and I could date whoever I wanted…without having to worry about anybody seeing me and telling Mum or Dad."

"Charlie, that's…"

"Awful, I know," Charlie grimaced. "When I moved to Wales, I met Drew. He's older, you know and a lot more…accepting of what he is than I am. And I've fallen for him, hard and he knows it, but he doesn't want some hidden relationship. He said it's all or nothing and I don't know how to give him everything…"

"Charlie, you honestly can't believe that your parents would…I don't know, kick you out or something, over this," Harry protested.

"Please Harry," Charlie sighed. "Don't try to make me feel better. Mum constantly goes on about how she wants me to 'find a nice girl and settle down.'"

"Molly just wants you to be happy," Harry insisted. "She never would have considered that you…preferred guys. Let's be honest Charlie, you don't really fit the stereotype."

Charlie still didn't look convinced so Harry tried a different tact.

"Charlie your parents are the most understanding, accepting people I know. It would break their hearts to think that you had been keeping this from them for so many years. Trust them, I'm sure you'll be surprised."

Two identical pops from outside the kitchen alerted Harry to Ginny's arrival.

"Harry, please don't say anything yet," Charlie implored. "I'll talk to them, I will… just let me get my head around it all. This has been a secret for so many years that I don't know how to share it with anyone."

"I think you did a pretty good job with me," Harry smiled and clapped Charlie on the shoulder. "I'm looking forward to meeting Drew."

Harry left Charlie sitting by the fire and went to great his fiancé.

* * *

After dinner that night, when Harry and Ginny had slunk off to a private corner of the Burrow somewhere and Charlie and Arthur had helped Molly with the cleaning up, Charlie steeled himself for his revelation and said –

"Mum, dad, I have something I need to talk to you about,"

His parents looked around, sensing from the tone of his voice that whatever was bothering their second eldest son was no small thing.

"I've eh…met someone, someone special, and I was wondering if it was okay for me to bring them home for Easter lunch,"

"Of course you can Charlie," Molly beamed; this was exactly what she had always hoped for each of her children. "Your father and I are looking forward to meeting her. What's her name?"

Charlie took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Drew," he sighed. "His name is Drew."

Molly gasped, Arthur's eyes widened in shock and neither said a word. For several moments, nobody spoke and Charlie's eyes filled with tears. He sniffed, unable to help himself and moments later his mother had launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him, while his father's hand clamped down bracingly on his shoulder.

"Oh Charlie," Molly gasped, smoothing the hair that fell across his forehead lovingly.

"We're looking forward to meeting your Drew, son," Arthur spoke gruffly, his voice choked with emotion.

"Mind you tell me his favorite dish Charlie-poo," Molly murmured, kissing his cheek softly. "I'll make sure to include it on Sunday to make him feel welcome."

Charlie heaved a great sigh of relief, years worth of tension and fear seeping out of him, as he cried in his parent's arms.

* * *

Much later that night, Charlie Apparated directly to the front stoop of his cabin, just off the dragon reservation in Wales. Like many of the dragon keepers, Charlie elected to live in the cabins available to them, located on the edge of the reservation. It was convenient, especially when dealing with ill animals that needed round the clock care, as was often the case. It was a common and unfortunately mostly true stereotype that dragon keepers were obsessed with their jobs. Very few that Charlie had ever met had maintained successful, long term relationships and those that had were more often than not in relationships with other keepers. Charlie tried to block these negative thoughts as he ignored his own front door and instead headed for a different cottage, some two hundred meters from his own.

Charlie hesitated before knocking, steeling himself for whatever might occur. The last time he had spoken to Drew it had not ended well and he knew it would take a lot to make up for the damage he had done on that occasion.

Despite the late hour, Charlie knew Drew would be awake. Like him, Drew thrived late at night. In fact, that was how they had truly got to know each other, after both volunteering for late night shifts on the reservation. It was during those late nights that they had discussed nothing and everything, and Charlie had fallen in love with the soft-spoken older man. He had kept his adoration a secret, not wanting the mortification of exposing himself and being rejected and worst of all, not wanting to risk his friendship with the man who had become his closest friend.

Until one night it had all changed.

Relieved of their duty and unwilling to part, the pair had instead both retired to Drew's cabin, sharing a few drinks. It was there that Drew had calmly informed Charlie of his sexual preferences.

To say Charlie had overreacted would be something of an understatement. He was in equal parts elated and horrified, unsure how to react and unsure what Drew had been suggesting. Calmly, Drew had explained that he had long since realized that Charlie was gay and was open to pursuing a relationship with him.

"I realize you're not comfortable with this Charlie," Drew had told him serenely. "I've had a lot longer than you to come to terms with who I am and what that means. I'm prepared to wait, but not forever. I also want you to know that I won't be kept a secret. I expect to meet your family, your friends and be acknowledged for my role in your life. I don't have the patience nor the inclination for a fling; I'm far too old for that now. If you're in, you're all in, if not, I hope we can still be friends."

Charlie had left then and he hadn't spoken to Drew since. It had been five long, lonely weeks. And as Charlie raised his hand to knock on the door to Drew's cabin, he could only hope he hadn't left it to late.

"Charlie," Drew masked any surprise he felt as he opened the door. "Come in. Drink?"

"No thanks," Charlie wanted to keep a clear head.

"Tea then?"

"Alright," Charlie agreed, sensing that Drew needed something to keep his hands and thoughts occupies for a moment. As Drew prepared the tea, Charlie sank into the recliner he had come to think of as his after all the time he'd spent in Drew's cabin.

Drew Rees was thirty-nine years old, with the elegance and physicality of a much younger man, and the wisdom of one much older than his years. He was softly spoken, considerate in his responses and just as comfortable in silence as in conversation. His hair was dark and curly, even when cut closely to his head, and peppered with streaks of grey around his temples. His eyes were dark, dark brown, his features soft and he loped with a natural grace when he walked. He stood several inches taller than Charlie and like Charlie, and most dragon keepers, was covered in burns and calluses. Through rose-colored glasses, Charlie thought him to be the most attractive, charismatic man he had ever met, with a kind heart that Charlie was simply awed by.

"Thank you," Charlie murmured, as Drew handed him his mug of tea, prepared exactly as he liked it, black and sweet.

"You're welcome," Drew replied softly, his South-African accent still prominent, despite the fact that he had not called that country home for two decades, even after being born, raised and educated there.

They lapsed into silence, and Charlie fidgeted uncomfortably. He knew he had been the one in the wrong, and that it was up to him to make amends. He _wanted _to make amends, but now that he was sitting there, opposite the man he had come to love, he had no idea what to say.

"I've been a git," Charlie eventually exclaimed, in true Weasley fashion. "I've been an absolute prat and I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Drew inclined his head. Charlie waited for him to say more, before realizing that saying sorry wasn't yet enough. He had some serious bridges to mend here.

"When you… told me what you told me," Charlie started awkwardly. "I was shocked. I'd never dared to hope…."

Charlie broke off, unable to continue. He took a large gulp of tea, a deep breath and started again.

"Nobody in my life knows…. Knows that I'm gay," it was the first time in his life Charlie had ever admitted as much out loud. "So when you knew, I…."

"Panicked," Drew supplied wryly.

"Yeah I did," Charlie felt himself blushing with shame. "But today, I had a talk with my sister's fiancé and… I told him."

Drew raised his eyebrows, but didn't speak, gesturing for Charlie to continue.

"He chewed me out," Charlie continued with a dry laugh. "Told me I was doing my family a disservice in not trusting them to accept me, no matter what. And he was right."

"I asked my parent's if you could come for Easter lunch," Charlie finished, daring to look at Drew in the eye now. "I told them you were special to me. Mum wants to know your favorite dish, so she can make you feel welcome."

Drew didn't move. For several, long, drawn out, torturous minutes, neither man spoke.

"Bread and butter pudding," Drew responded eventually. In response to Charlie's nonplussed look he added. "My favorite dish, to tell your mum."

"You'll come?" Charlie asked, disbelieving. "You'll really come and meet my crazy, huge family?"

"I don't have any family I chose to acknowledge Charlie," Drew told him. "A crazy, huge family sounds really nice to me."

"They are actually pretty great," Charlie grinned. "When they're not driving you crazy that is."

Sending his teacup to the kitchen with a flick of his wand, Charlie moved from his chair, to kneel in front of a very surprised Drew.

"Thank you," Charlie murmured earnestly. "For forgiving me, for giving me another chance." Hesitating only a moment, Charlie reached out and took Drew's hands in his. "I've never done this before…been in a relationship. I'm bound to stuff it up sooner or later."

"As long as you're willing to try," Drew smiled softly at him, raising their joined hands and pressing a tender kiss against Charlie's callused palms. "You're worth the stuff ups Charles Weasley."

"I love you," Charlie confessed. "I've fallen in love with you and I want every body to know. I could never be ashamed of you Drew, or of what we have together."

"That's all I can ask of you Charlie," Drew reached for him. "I've loved you for a long, long time."

Their lips met then in a kiss that soon escalated from a chaste consummation of the vows they had just shared, to a passionate, desperate caress that spoke of just how long the moment had been in the making.

They stumbled together, unwilling to break away, towards Drew's bedroom, shedding their clothes as they went. There was no urgency, only passion and shared desire as they fell to the bed together, kissing, caressing, tasting, loving. As they moved together, teaching, receiving, giving, their lips never leaving the others, Charlie, somewhere in the deepest corners of his mind, those not consumed by pleasure, came to a realization. This was love, this was life and he had nothing to be ashamed of by giving himself to the man he loved.

* * *

_I had originally intended to portray the Burrow at Easter and how everyone reacted to Charlie and Drew, but I felt it was more poignant to leave it here. I'm sure we can all imagine how the Weasley's would have responded, some confusion, some teasing and a whole lot of love. We'll see more of Charlie and Drew in the future._

_For all those that review I have a 500 word excerpt of George and how he copes with his first birthday without his twin._

_Chapter Eleven will be posted within the week._

_Thank you for your continued support, your kind words mean the world to me._

_SR. _


	11. Chapter 11 - In Memoriam

**Name: **In Memoriam

**Date: **May 2nd, 1999

**Rating:** M

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort - Family

* * *

"_Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love"_

_- Albus Dumbledore_

_(/i)_

* * *

One year.

The thought invaded Harry's thoughts from the moment he awoke on the morning of May the 2nd, 1999. It had been a year. A year since the Dark Lord's downfall, a year since the death of so many beloved family members, friends and strangers. A year since they had fought for their freedom.

One year.

It was a sobering thought, Harry reflected as he lay in bed, that he had a year of relative peace. No Horcrux hunt, no kidnapped love ones, no dangerous missions (outside of the ones that he now got paid to go on by the Ministry) and no near death experiences. For the first time since he had entered the wizard world, some eight years previously, a year had passed in harmony.

Harry could hear Ron shuffling about in the tiny kitchenette of the flat and, with a great effort, pulled himself out of bed. They were destined for Hogwarts and the memorial service that was being held there that afternoon. Harry was looking forward to seeing Ginny, but it seemed to be the only good point in a day that he had been dreading for weeks.

Ron was a shadow of his usual self as he quietly prepared a breakfast neither of them was likely to eat. When Hermione appeared quietly from Ron's bedroom, Harry pretended not to notice. The trio sat in silence, munching on toast that seemed to turn to sawdust in their mouths, and sipping tea that slid uncomfortably down their throats. The occasion called for somber, formal dress robes and Harry's sat uncomfortably high on his throat, making his skin chafe and itch.

"Did you decide whether you were going to speak or not Harry?" Hermione asked eventually.

"I told Kingsley no," Harry replied, remembering the pressure he had felt to agree with the Minister for Magic's request, when no part of him wanted to take part. "Today should be about those we lost, not me."

"It's going to be about you no matter what mate," Ron replied quietly. "Haven't you read the Prophet lately?"

"They make it seem like I single handedly defeated Voldemort and all the Death Eaters, I know," Harry growled angrily. "What they don't realize is that if I hadn't had as much help as I did, I wouldn't be alive today and neither would they most likely."

"People need a hero, a figure head," Hermione sighed. "They don't want to hear that you didn't have a choice, or that it was a team effort."

"People suck," Harry retorted maturely, causing Ron to snort and Hermione to smile wryly.

"Let's go up to Hogwarts early," Ron suggested. "We can catch up with a few people, see Ginny and try to avoid everyone from the Ministry."

Harry and Hermione readily agreed and within minutes, they were walking from the Apparition point towards Hogwarts. The path was busy with people making their way towards the school, but to Harry's relief, apart from a few nods in his direction, all were respectful and kept their distance.

As they moved closer to the castle, the sick feeling in Harry's stomach increased in intensity. His visit today was an entirely different situation to the few times he had been up to watch Ginny play Quidditch. Here today he would be expected to relieve his experiences of that day, to once again commiserate their losses and celebrate their victories. He wasn't sure how he was going to get through the day.

The security at the gates of Hogwarts was tight that morning, but with Harry and Ron's Auror identification, and Hermione's DRCMC identification they made it through the checkpoints quicker than most. As they strolled through the grounds, Hermione was the first to spot Neville, Luna and Ginny, sitting together by the Black Lake.

Ginny saw them before they could call out and she was up and running, throwing herself into Harry's arms with such an impact that he stumbled backwards. The sick feeling in Harry's stomach eased somewhat as he absorbed her warmth and clung her closer to him still. Eventually, Ginny let go, greeting her brother and best friend in turn, before turning back to her fiancé and dragging him to sit beside the lake with their friends.

"How are you?" Harry murmured into her hair, breathing in the sweet floral smell of her that he had missed so much.

"Ok," Ginny told him. "I'm glad you're here. How are you?"

"Al…alright," Harry swallowed convulsively around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. In truth, he was anything except okay. As he looked around the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest, everywhere he looked reminded him of a moment, of a person who had fallen, or of the moment that he was struck _again_ by the killing curse….

Ginny scrambled to her feet, pulling Harry up with her by the hand.

"Just remembered that McGonagall wants to see Harry," she lied blithely. "We might be a while."

Before their friends could query them any further, Ginny was frog-marching Harry towards the castle.

"Gin?" Harry queried, totally perplexed by his fiancés behaviour. "Where are we going? Does McGonagall really want to see me?"

"Not that I know of," Ginny smiled coyly, ignoring all those they passed who called out greetings. "I thought we could both use the distraction."

"What distraction?" Harry asked, as they continued through the Entrance Hall and up the closest staircase.

Ginny refused to answer any more questions, not stopping or pausing for breath until they reached the fifth floor. Harry recognized the statue of Boris the Bewildered and was equally as confused as the statue when Ginny gave the password and pulled him through the door to the Prefects bathroom.

The door locked behind them and before Harry could regain his wits, Ginny was making for the giant bathtub and turning on the taps. When she was eventually satisfied with the scents permeating the room and the temperature of the water flowing into the tub she looked back at Harry with raised eyebrows.

"Do you think you could make yourself useful and cast some basic wards around the place Auror Potter?" She queried. "I don't know about you but I don't much fancy getting caught by Filch or Myrtle," she snorted. "Now there's a match made in heaven."

"Gin…what on Earth are we doing?"

"I thought it was pretty obvious Harry," Ginny came closer, running her hands over his shoulders, before pushing his cloak off of them. "But maybe I can make it more obvious still…" she slowly began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Gin," Harry's voice was unusually hoarse. "Are you…are you suggesting that we take…a bath. Now? Together?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," Ginny agreed as she pulled off her shoes, quickly followed by her skirt. "To take our minds off everything, for a little while at least. Now are you going to get undressed Potter, or am I going to have to do everything myself?"

Ginny stood before him, fully, gloriously nude. Her brilliant red hair fell down around her shoulders and Harry was unable to help but follow it's path, across the slender curve of her arms, her beautifully full breasts, the curve of her waist and down lower still, to the beautiful v of her womanhood. Her legs, impossibly long for one so small, were lithe and muscular, all the way down to her feet, seemingly too tiny to support her frame.

Harry realized he was ogling her shamelessly, but he was unable to help himself. Hastily pulling out his wand he put up wards as quickly as he was able before shedding his clothes with equal speed.

Harry watched, his mouth dry as Ginny lowered herself gently into the water, her hair darkening as it soaked up the water, her nipples puckering from the temperature change. Suddenly Harry's hands moved faster to divest himself of his clothing and by the time he joined Ginny in the perfect temperatures of the bath water, he was almost ridiculously eager.

"You're a very naughty girl Miss Weasley," Harry growled at her, as she splashed through the water, just out of her grip. "Breaking the school rules like this."

"What can I say Harry, you bring out my naughty side," Ginny grinned saucily at him, swimming through the pool, constantly out of his reach. "I never misbehaved like this before I met you."

"Right," Harry snorted. "Says the sister of Fred and George Weasley."

They both froze, the impact of Harry's unthinking words crashing over them. The mischievous grin fell from Ginny's face, her lips parted with shock and she bobbed listlessly in the water. Harry reached for her, drawing her into his arms and burying his lips in her damp hair.

"I'm sorry Gin…I didn't think,"

"It's ok," her voice was hollow sounding, even as she wound her limbs around Harry's body, gripping tightly. "We should be able to talk about him, should be able to say things like that, without it hurting so badly."

Kicking back in the water, Harry floated, with Ginny still entwined tightly around his body.

"Can you believe it's been a year?" Ginny murmured eventually. "Three hundred and sixty five days. A year ago I was in hiding at Aunt Muriel's, praying that you were still alive, still fighting. I played chess with Fred that morning. He beat me and refused to play with me again. Isn't that just like him, always had to have the last laugh?"

"That would have made him happy," Harry laughed, the sound a deep rumble in his chest under Ginny's ear.

"I'll get that rematch one day," Ginny affirmed fiercely.

"Not for a very long time, I hope," he chided her gently, running his hands up and down her spine and enjoying the goose bumps that formed there, despite the warmth of the water they floated in.

"Don't you worry Mr. Potter," Ginny couldn't help but smile. "I'm planning on being around to run your life for a very long time yet."

"Good, because I've got all sorts of plans for you Miss Weasley,"

"Really?" Ginny was genuinely curious. "Like what?"

"Well," Harry's tone was light in an effort to cheer Ginny. "I'd rather thought we might get married at some stage. And then I'm planning on going to bed with you, and waking up with you, every night and every morning for the rest of our lives. And I'm going to watch you play Quidditch and then, when you're done with that, we're going to have babies... lots of them."

"Hold on, how many exactly?" Ginny demanded.

"Oh at least a Quidditch team for sure," Harry responded blithely. "Hush though, I wasn't finished." Harry was forced to duck as Ginny swung a fist at him. "We're going to make love, a lot..."

"Hence the Quidditch team of children," Ginny interrupted with a saucy grin.

"Exactly," Harry agreed, grinning also. "And the best bit is that we've got all the time in the world to do all this. No Dark Lord hanging over our heads and soon, no more Hogwarts to keep us separated."

"I heard from the Harpies yesterday," Ginny told him. "I've been waiting to tell you. They invited me to try out in July. I've had expressions of interests from the Wasps, the Tornados and the Cannons as well, but don't tell Ron, he'd never let me hear the end of it if I chose not to play for his team. But let's be honest, I'm pretty fond of winning and I'd rather play for a team that does win occasionally."

"I'm so proud of you," Harry told her.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather me sit at home, making house for you?" Ginny teased.

"Don't you dare," Harry growled at her, tickling her sides playfully. Ginny shrieked, flailed in the water for a moment and then wrapped herself around his body again.

"This was such a good idea," Harry sighed, as Ginny nuzzled his neck. "Remind me never to doubt your devious motives again."

"It's good to remember, but sometimes it's nice to forget too," Ginny agreed, pressing herself more firmly against Harry in a way that he knew could only be intentional. "Make me forget, Harry."

She brought her lips to his then, in a kiss that was as frantic as it was passionate. Within moments, Harry was slipping inside his fiancés lithe body and as they moved and gasped together, the war and those that had been taken from them, were, for that moment at least, the last thing on their mind.

* * *

"I'm so glad I'm marrying you," Harry spoke lazily, as he found purchase on the seat around the edge of the bathtub. His legs refused to support him any longer, turned to jelly after the three incredible orgasms he'd just experienced.

"Are you going to say that after every time we have sex?" Ginny giggled sleepily, the combination of the steam in the room and the pleasure she had just experienced making her groggy.

"Most likely," Harry replied with a half-grin. "The sooner we get married the better in my opinion. Then we can do that all the time."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about a date actually," Ginny's brow furrowed. "I know Mum had her heart set on another summer wedding, but with try-outs, I don't know that we'll be able to fit it in."

"Okay," Harry replied easily.

"I've been thinking a Christmas wedding might be nice," Ginny mused. "The Quidditch season breaks up for three weeks over the holiday, if I'm playing by then that is. Otherwise the wedding would have to wait until the next summer break," her brow furrowed at that. "I don't think I'm quite prepared to wait that long."

"Christmas is great," Harry responded, turning to nuzzle Ginny's neck.

"Again, Harry?" Ginny queried disbelievingly, all the while arching her neck to allow Harry better access to the spot where she was particularly sensitive.

"All this talk of the wedding got me going," Harry explained, nibbling her collarbone.

"More likely the talk of Quidditch," Ginny snorted. "I wonder what the time is? We've been in here for an awfully long while. I look like a prune!"

"Sexiest prune I've ever seen," Harry would not be deterred.

Slipping from Harry's grasp, Ginny climbed out of the bath and riffled through Harry's dress robes until she found the watch that had once been her uncles.

"Harry!" She exclaimed, dropping it and scrambling for the closest towel. "We've missed the start of the ceremony!"

"Shit!" Harry cursed, scrambling out of the pool, grabbing his wand and casting a drying charm over both of them hastily. He pulled his robes on quickly with fumbling fingers, before searching for the sock he couldn't seem to find.

Ginny twirled her wand through her hair frantically drying it into the soft waves it usually fell in. Moments later, Harry was taking down the wards he had established and the pair was sprinting through the corridors of Hogwarts.

They reached the grounds just as the memorial service concluded and they immediately blended in with the crowd. Harry couldn't help but grin a little. Ginny's idea had been brilliant, they had been much more agreeably engaged than they otherwise would have been had they stayed for the service.

"Where were you?" Ron appeared out of nowhere, looking very suspicious.

"Got caught up," Ginny responded blithely. "Snuck in the back."

"I didn't see you," Ron retorted.

"Must not have looked in the right spot," Ginny brushed her brother off again. "Oh look, here are Mum and Dad."

"It's so good to see you dear," Molly enveloped her daughter in a warm embrace. "I don't suppose you've seen Bill and Fleur have you? They were supposed to be here, but nobody's seen them."

"I haven't seen them yet," Ginny responded, not mentioning that she'd hardly seen anybody, sequestered away as she had been with her fiancé.

"Funny, I hadn't seen you until just now," Ron persevered, obviously suspicious that his best mate refused to meet his gaze.

"Maybe Harry can recommend an optometrist to you Ronald," Ginny suggested through clenched teeth.

"Neville said that a lot of the old DA members and the Order are meeting down at the Hogs Head this afternoon for a few drinks," Hermione put in. "Shall we go?"

"It would be nice to catch up with everyone," Harry shrugged.

"Share some old war stories you mean?" Ginny grinned. "Maybe I can convince McGonagall to let me go for a few hours.

"I hardly think Minerva will let you out of the castle to go to a pub Ginny," Mrs. Weasley put in.

"I think today, Minerva might understand dear," Arthur told his wife. "Don't fret, I'm sure Bill and Fleur will be along shortly."

"Isn't that Isis?" Ron pointed towards the sky, and the great Tawny owl swooping towards them, identifying it as Bill's pet.

"It is," Ginny replied, watching as the owl swooped down to perch on Mr. Weasley's shoulder, where it stuck out it's leg to allow him to untie the folded scrap of parchment that was attached.

Mr. Weasley read the note, a grin spreading wide over his face. Aware of the eyes of his family upon him, he then read it aloud.

"Dear granddad and grandmum Weasley, assorted uncles and aunts" he spoke. "Please come to St. Mungo's at your earliest convenience to meet your new granddaughter. Our little girl is waiting to meet her family."

"Oh!" Came the collective gasp from the assembled Weasley's. Ginny's grip on Harry's hand tightened and Harry pulled her close to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"Let's make our way to St. Mungo's then," Mr. Weasley clapped his hands together. "Ginny, am I correct in saying that you would like to accompany us?"

"I'll go and find Professor McGonagall!" Ginny grinned, running off, Harry's hand still tightly clasped in her own.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later they were in London and there was not a dry eye amongst them as they were introduced to little Victoire Fleur Weasley. She was tiny, a month early after all and without a doubt the most beautiful baby anyone had ever seen, ever, at least according to her besotted father. Much like her cousin Freddie before her she was passed around, fought over and very much admired by the entire Weasley clan and when Harry's turn came to cuddle her, he was once again struck by the intense desire to have a baby of his own, immediately.

"You're clucky," Ginny laughed as she gently took the baby from him. "And you're going to have to wait."

"I can't help it," Harry confided in a low aside. "Seeing you with a baby...it does something to me."

"Good thing I get top marks in Charms then," Ginny didn't take her eyes off the peacefully sleeping baby. "One day though..."

Mrs. Weasley burst into tears upon holding her new granddaughter for the first time. The day had been harder on her than on any of them, but as she held her granddaughter in her arms, some of the wounds on her soul from a year past seemed to heal.

"You just couldn't let us be sad today, could you precious girl?" She crooned softly to the sleeping infant. "You came along early just to make us happy."

Soon, they were all kicked out so mother and child could rest. After a day filled with both heartache and joy Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wanted only to return home to the Burrow and after bone-crushing hugs for each of their children did just that. The rest made their way to the Hog's Head to greet their friends, even Ginny, who stated when her brother's had protested, that what McGonagall didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

The Hog's Head was filled to capacity with familiar faces that greeted them all with great excitement as they made their way in. The drinks had clearly been flowing freely for hours and the war stories that were exchanged were equally as exaggerated as true. Eventually, the assembled former members of the DA and the Order formed a loose circle and bottles of Firewhiskey were passed liberally around. A toast was proposed, though none could find the appropriate words.

"A shot for each of them?" Seamus Finnigan eventually suggested.

"We're sure to regret it in the morning," someone spoke. "But I can't think of anything more fitting."

Glasses were filled to the brim with Firewhiskey, Butterbeer or Mead and those assembled sat in silence, not knowing where to begin.

"For Colin Creevey," tiny little Dennis Creevey, far too young to be in a bar piped up, knocking back a sip of Firewhiskey, given to him by George Weasley.

"For Colin," they all echoed.

"Professor Burbage," someone spoke up and they all drank.

"Amelia Bones" Susan Bones put in.

"Mr. Fortescue,"

"Charlie Montgomery,"

"Emmeline Vance,"

"Broderick Bode,"

The names came thick and fast, most Harry had not known until a year before. Glasses were emptied and refilled, handkerchiefs were passed between friends and strangers, the sound of crying permeated the air.

"Fred Weasley," George choked out in a lull in the names, clutching his wife and son closer to him as he buried his face in Angelina's hair. Harry squeezed Ginny tightly as she convulsed from her position on his knee.

"Albus Dumbledore," Aberforth spoke gruffly.

"Remus and Dora Lupin," Harry's voice was rough with suppressed emotion as he stood in for his infant godson in memorializing his parents.

"Dobby," Hermione whispered.

"Alastor Moody," Charlie Weasley intoned, his hand firmly clasped in Drew's, his head bowed.

"Severus Snape," Ron murmured and Harry squeezed his best mates shoulder in thanks.

"Ted Tonks," Percy spoke.

"Hedwig," Ginny spoke through a watery smile just for Harry.

"Sirius Black," Harry managed to get out.

"Bathilda Bagshot," Hermione spoke again and Harry squeezed her hand as they both relieved the memory of the horrific Christmas Eve they'd shared.

"Cedric Diggory," a crying Cho Chang, wrapped in the arms of Ernie McMillan intoned.

"Frank Bryce," Harry spoke again, before continuing. "Bartemius Crouch Senior."

"Frank and Alice Longbottom," Neville spoke fiercely, as if daring any one to defy his parents place on the list of fallen heroes.

"James and Lily Potter," Ginny added, reaching across the table to squeeze Neville's hand.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett," Charlie added.

"Regulas Black," Ron spoke again.

The names of those from the first and second wizarding wars continued to pour in as glasses continued to refill themselves and those that survived continued to drink themselves into a pleasantly numb stupor as they together mourned their fallen heroes.

* * *

_Thank you for reading._

_After completing this chapter, I became aware that according to canon, Victorie was born on the 2nd anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. I tried to take that segment out but I couldn't bring myself to, I loved what Molly said to the infant too much. It's fiction for a reason, right? _

_All reviews will receive a sneak peek at Chapter Twelve, which should hopefully post within the next ten days._

_Reviews are the only payment I receive for sharing this with you, I cherish each and every one of them; please take the time to let me know your thoughts on the chapter. _

_SR. _


	12. Chapter 12 - The Great Lengths

**Name: **The Great Lengths

**Date: **June 15th, 1999

**Rating:** M

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort

* * *

"_Killing is not nearly so easy as the innocent believe."_

_- Albus Dumbledore_

* * *

The heat was oppressive; the mid afternoon sun beat down upon the back of their necks, their feet dangling lazily in the water as they stretched out upon the bank of the lake of the Burrow. A feeling of contentment such as Harry had never known it spread over Harry as he lazily stroked the sweat soaked back of his scantily clad fiancé. The water was pleasantly cool on his feet and, had he had more energy, he might have immersed himself fully in its wintery depths.

Ginny had returned from Hogwarts only days before and, with Harry's work schedule such as it was, today was the first time they had truly spent the day together. They had spent the morning flying, Harry helping Ginny prepare for her upcoming professional Quidditch league try-outs, and now, sweaty and exhausted, they had collapsed by the lake, too exhausted to make it back to the Burrow where a delicious lunch was sure to await them. That every day was not spent in such a manner was criminal to Harry and for the first time, he questioned why he, who had more gold in Gringott's than he could spend in ten lifetimes, bothered working at all. Without work, and allowing for Ginny's Quidditch commitments, each and every day could be spent in a manner similar to this.

This train of thought invariably led Harry to thoughts of the case he was currently working on and the Dark Wizard that had been evading his capture for the last fortnight. Odin Ansgar had apparently appeared out of nowhere, attacked a group of Muggles during a football match and then fled. The Muggles had all thankfully survived, but his actions had been severe and a rather frightening reminder of the Dark Lord that had so recently been so deposed. Harry was a member of the elite Auror team assigned to the case and their lack of progress on the matter was a cause for concern.

Shaking these thoughts from his head, for why would he want to think about work when he could be enjoying some time with his favorite witch, Harry struggled into a sitting position, taking in the rather appealing view of his flushed, exhausted fiancé.

"We should go back to the house," Harry dragged his nose across the small of Ginny's back.

"And have to listen to mum trying to make wedding plans? I don't think so," Ginny retorted.

"But lunch," Harry reminded her, as his stomach reminded him with a gurgle. "And I could really use a shower, you certainly put me through my paces Miss Weasley."

"You sound like Ron, only thinking of your stomach," Ginny grumbled as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "Oh I'm sore."

"If you play your cards right, I might give you a massage later on," Harry pulled her to her feet, pressing a kiss against her lips.

"And how exactly would I play my cards right?"

"Answer some of your mum's wedding questions," Harry answered, with an apologetic smile. "It doesn't make a difference to me, but it would make your mum happy. She's been planning this day for your whole life you know."

"So she keeps reminding me," Ginny sighed. "And why should I be the one to answer her questions? It's your wedding too you know?"

"I don't mind answering questions," Harry answered honestly. "But at the same time, I really don't care. As long as you turn up and we get married, I'm happy."

"You have to have some opinions!" Ginny protested, looking surprised.

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "I'd prefer to keep it small of course, just family and close friends. We could make a list this afternoon? Your mum might like that."

"No way," Ginny shook her head vehemently. "Mum cannot be involved in deciding the guest list, otherwise we'll have every Weasley and Prewett ever to breathe attending."

"Right," Harry's brow furrowed. He was beginning to realize that planning a wedding might be a lot more complicated then he had originally thought. "Do you erh...want to have it here? Your mum offered."

"It might be a bit difficult, being December, but I've always pictured myself getting married at home," Ginny mused. "What do you think?"

"The Burrow is great," Harry agreed firmly, relieved that at least one decision had been made. "But I don't want to put your mum to all that work again," they both shuddered, remembering the lead up to Bill and Fleur's wedding. "I'll make sure she has plenty of help. And I'll get Hermione to work on some long-lasting warming charms."

"There you are!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as they wandered into the kitchen. "I was beginning to think you'd be out there flying all day! And we have so much to do!"

"Mum, Harry and I were just talking about the wedding," Ginny forestalled her mother's coming diatribe. "If it's okay with you and Dad, we'd love to have it here."

Mrs. Weasley launched into full planning mode, fretting over their insistence on a December wedding and charming four separate quills to make lists of everything that needed to be organized. Harry only barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the dining room table, who knew weddings could be so complicated?

* * *

Harry stared unseeingly at the paperwork before him at his desk, his head full of the lists Mrs. Weasley had presented him with the afternoon before. He had been assigned thirteen tasks to accomplish in preparation for the wedding. Ginny's list had been considerably longer, much to her disgust, and Harry was left wondering if they wouldn't have been better off quietly eloping to avoid all the fuss.

The paperwork on his desk taunted him as he fidgeted uncomfortably and stretched. If he had thought becoming an Auror would be an exciting, action-packed career path with little formalities involved he had been sorely mistaken. Every spell Harry cast in the field had to be written up, justified and an alternative spell for the situation recorded, resulting in the paperwork taking up twice the time fieldwork did.

Odin Ansgar was still at large and the task force assigned to apprehend him was growing every day. He had gone to ground after his last attack, covering his tracks thoroughly and remaining hidden since. Kingsley had confided in Harry that the situation bore startling similarities to the initial activities of Lord Voldemort and because of that, Kingsley was dedicating all available resources to Ansgar's capture.

It was late. Most of Harry's co-worker's had left for the night, and only those on the night guard remained. Joining Harry was Ron, Neville and senior Auror's Williamson and Proudfoot. All were similarly engaged to Harry, supposedly completing paperwork, in reality, staring blankly, their thoughts otherwise occupied.

Harry was hovering in the abyss between wakefulness and sleep when a patronus in the shape of a hawk appeared in the middle of the room. Harry recognized the patronus as belonging to an officer from the Magical Law Enforcement squad and leapt to his feet as the hawk conveyed its message –

"Attack in a Muggle shopping centre in New Forest, appears to be the work of a single Wizard, possibly Odin Ansgar. Send all possible reinforcements, Obliviators and Aurors immediately."

His wand in hand, Harry had Disapparated before the message had been fully conveyed.

* * *

Five hours later, Harry sat at his desk again, his head in his hands, his mind numb as he blankly stared at the paperwork in front of him.

He felt sick, physically ill as he mentally replayed every moment of the past several hours. What had happened, what could have happened, what should have happened?

How had it gone so wrong?

The words he had written swam before him on the page, taunting him. A hand clamped down on his shoulder and Harry startled, he turned and saw Neville looking at him in concern, Ron directly behind him.

"Harry...mate, there was nothing else you could have done," Ron was the first to speak.

"You did what you had to do Harry," Neville agreed, nodding vehemently. "Any of us would have done the same."

"Yeah," Harry nodded blankly. "Yeah of course. I'm going to go...see you tomorrow guys."

Harry swung his cloak over his shoulders, his mind numb as he strode for the elevators. He heard his friends go to follow him, before their superiors called them back.

"Leave him be lads," Williamson advised. "He knows what he needs."

Harry knew exactly what he needed in that moment.

As soon as he cleared the boundaries of the Ministry, he Apparated for the Burrow.

* * *

Arthur and Molly Weasley were enjoying a final cup of tea for the evening, snuggled together in the sitting room when they first spotted Harry. His head was bowed, his figure hunched as he strode from the Apparation point towards the house. Molly jumped to her feet, straightening her blouse and making for the doorway. A flash of green from the fireplace halted her progress.

"Ronnie?"

"Mum, dad, I think Harry's going to be there in a moment," Ron's head told them from the grate.

"He's just walking up now," Arthur told his youngest son, exchanging worried glances with his wife. "What's happened Ron?"

"It's...not been a good night," Ron told them with a heavy sigh. "Harry...Harry's not doing so well. He needs Ginny I think. Just let him be."

"Ron..."

"Trust me mum," even through the coals the Weasley's could see the troubled expression on their son's face. "Look, I've still got more paperwork to do, but I'll come round and explain as soon as I can. Just...let Harry and Ginny be. He needs her right now."

Ron's head disappeared just as the kitchen door opened. Moments later, Harry walked through. His face was carefully blank, but, for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had known Harry since he was eleven and considered him one of their own, his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil.

"Ginny's in her room Harry," Arthur spoke softly. "Go on up."

With something resembling a smile, Harry swept up the staircase, his posture betraying his weariness.

* * *

Ginny was lying in bed, reviewing her mother's lists of things to organize for the wedding with mounting frustration when a soft knock on her door alerted her to her company.

Swinging out of bed, she opened her door and poked her head around the corner. To her surprise, Harry stood there, his head bowed, shoulders slumped.

"Harry!" She exclaimed, her questions dying in her throat, her concern for her fiancé over-riding them. She opened her door more fully, pulled him inside and pushed him to sit on her bed. Hesitating only a moment, she picked up her wand and locked her bedroom door.

Moving to sit beside him, she pulled her quilt over them both and burrowed her head into his shoulder. Intuitively she knew not to push him, that he would talk when he was ready.

Almost half an hour later her patience was rewarded.

"I killed a man tonight,"

That Ginny was taken aback by Harry's words would be an understatement. Still, she remained silent, knowing that Harry would explain as he could.

"We found Odin Ansgar... you know, the one who's been attacking all the Muggles? He attacked a shopping centre... it was chaos when we arrived. He ran... we'd already established anti-Apparation wards around the centre so he couldn't escape," the words poured out of Harry now, so fast that Ginny could barely keep up. "He took a Muggle man hostage. I saw an opportunity and took it... I cast _reducto_ and Neville took care of getting the Muggle out of the way. I only meant to collapse a wall... bury him beneath the rubble, but he moved right in the path of the spell and it hit him in the chest... I killed him."

"Oh Harry," Ginny breathed. "I'm _so _sorry that happened to you."

"Happened to me?" Harry echoed sarcastically. "I'm fine, he's the one that's lying dead in St. Mungo's!"

"That was his choice!" Ginny snapped, grabbing Harry's chin and forcing him to meet her gaze. "He chose to learn the Dark Arts, chose to use them and chose to target Muggles! He knew the Ministry was after him and I'm sure if the situation were reversed and you were the one lying dead in St. Mungo's, he wouldn't be feeling an ounce of regret right now! But you're a decent person Harry, so of course you regret his death, even though we both know that you had _no other option_."

"I...I killed him Ginny," Harry turned to look at her, his eyes betraying his torment. "I took another human beings life. No matter what he had done, what he would have done in the future... I took that away from him."

Knowing saying anything more was pointless, Ginny merely moved closer to Harry, offering him her silent comfort and unconditional love and support.

"I knew that one day I'd have someone's death on my hands," Harry whispered. "I knew that when I accepted Kingsley's offer. But to have it actually happen... to have ended his life...How am I any different than Voldemort?"

Ginny sat bolt upright, her eyes blazing, her teeth clenched.

"Right now, that's how you're different Harry Potter!" She exclaimed, throwing her fists against his chest uselessly. "Despite everything Ansgar did, you regret his death! You regret that to save others, you had to end his life. Voldemort _enjoyed_ killing, he got off on torture and murder and making people plead for their lives. Don't ever compare yourself to him Harry, or I'll hex you into tomorrow!"

Harry smiled wearily, dropping a feather light kiss to the top of Ginny's head.

"Why do I feel as if your Bat-Boogey Hexes are going to be the mediator of our arguments for the rest of our lives?"

"Probably because they will," Ginny smiled, intertwining their hands. "You're a good person Harry, I know that if you had have had any other option you would have taken it. Think of the lives you saved tonight, not the one you ended."

Harry nodded, agreeing with her words even as he disagreed internally. Ginny was right of course, but she couldn't understand the way he felt. Hell, he hoped she _never_understood the regret of ending a life, but in that moment, as Ginny drifted to sleep on his chest, her words, logical as they had been, seemed empty to Harry.

Harry tried to sleep, really he did, but as the night grew long, sleep continued to evade him, reminding him unpleasantly of those sleepless nights immediately following the Battle of Hogwarts.

Eventually, Harry slipped from Ginny's arms, not wanting to wake her, and made for the kitchen, hoping to find a bottle of Firewhiskey there. Instead, he found Mrs. Weasley and wordlessly, he accepted the cup of tea she prepared for him, taking a seat opposite her at the kitchen table.

They sat silently, both caught in their own thoughts until Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"You're a good man, Harry Potter," she murmured, absently stirring her tea. "I know you know that, but I feel as if you might need a reminder."

"I don't feel like a good person tonight," Harry's voice was full of a self-loathing that it pained Molly Weasley to hear. "I feel...less than human."

Molly nodded, regarding Harry with a particularly intense expression that seemed out of place on her motherly features.

"Do you think I'm less than human, Harry?"

"What? No!"

"I've taken a life, just like you," Molly reminded him. "And unlike you, I don't regret it at all, in fact, I might almost say I'm glad I did it."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, somehow, he had forgotten that Molly had finished Bellatrix Lestrange towards the end of the Battle of Hogwarts.

"But...that was different!" He exclaimed. "I mean...it's not like you had a choice?"

"Did you?" Molly questioned knowingly. "Don't answer, I know you didn't. When I was dueling Lestrange... I knowingly fought to kill Harry. I was so enraged, so heart broken over Freddie, that I wanted blood. I wanted to kill the bitch who dared try to harm one of my babies. For a split second Harry, I rejoiced that she was dead and that I'd been the one to do it."

Harry stared at his almost-mother in shock. He had never believed that Molly Weasley would be capable of such violent, vicious emotions. At the same time however, it did not change his opinion of her at all, if anything, he respected her all the more for it. Just like Lily Potter, she had fought to protect her children, that Lily had had no defense made no difference. Harry realized, with startling certainty, that had his mother had access to her wand the night Voldemort had come for him, his mother most certainly would have tried to kill the Dark Lord.

"You were protecting your children, protecting Ginny," Harry argued, when he could finally form the words. "I was...working."

"You were protecting countless Muggles from certain death," Mrs. Weasley disagreed. "Don't argue with me Harry, I heard it directly from Ron who swears you had _no other choice_. Tell me Harry, if you had have had the opportunity to kill Ansgar tonight, and you hadn't taken it, and he had gone on to become another Voldemort, would you regret not taking the opportunity to end it when you had it?"

"Of...of course!" Harry exclaimed. "But we have no idea..."

"You're right, we have no idea, but if you saved even one life tonight Harry, doesn't that make it worth it?"

Harry didn't answer. He honestly wasn't sure. Did saving one innocent life absolve his sin of taking a life that had been far from innocent?

"Dumbledore said... that killing, tears your soul apart," he mused after a long silence.

"Does your soul feel damaged Harry?" Molly asked quietly.

Harry thought on this for several, long minutes.

"Not damaged," he finally decided. "A little sore perhaps, but not irreversibly damaged."

"I don't regret killing Bellatrix Lestrange," Molly told him. "I regret that the situation came about, but I don't regret my actions. I certainly don't take any enjoyment from what I had to do, but, if the same situation occurred, I'd do it all again."

"So would I," Harry decided suddenly. "With Ansgar. I regret that I had to, but, in the same situation, I'd do it again."

"You're a good man Harry Potter," Molly repeated her earlier statement.

"And you're an amazing woman Molly Weasley," Harry replied, meaning every word.

Mrs. Weasley flushed, before pouring them both more tea. The pair sat silently, the darkness wrapped around them, contemplating the great lengths good people were forced to go to, to rid the world of evil.

* * *

_I've often thought that, despite his talent, being an Auror was an odd choice of career for Harry, who professed to wanting a peaceful life. Additionally, I've wondered how he would cope with some of what he would have to do as an Auror that might be contrary to the moral code we see him develop over seven books. I hope I've captured a little of what may have been._

_Time will go by more quickly now for our favorite characters as we skip through their lives. Is there anything you would like to see? Please let me know and I'll try to include it._

_My schedule had changed somewhat, allowing me more time to write during the week, but less time on weekends. I'm still hoping to update weekly however._

_Please let me know what you thought of Chapter 12 in a review. Those that review will get a sneak peek of Chapter 13. _

_Special thanks to SiriusBlackIsAwesome, for being my sounding board as I contemplate my next story._

_Thank you, as always, for reading._

_SR. _


	13. Chapter 13 - To Win or Lose

**Name: **To Win or Lose

**Date: **Autumn 1999

**Rating:** T

**Genre: **Romance

* * *

"_Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose."_

_- Lyndon B. Johnson_

_[/i]_

* * *

When Molly Weasley received an owl from Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, she had had no idea what to expect from the meeting he requested. Regardless, she had gone along with it without mentioning it to her husband or children, assuming it must have something to do with one of them.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

"Me?" Molly echoed, placing her teacup in it's saucer, not willing to risk breaking the Minister's good china with her shaking hands. "Me?"

"Yes Molly, you," his deep voice held a touch of amusement. "I don't see that you should be so surprised. You're a very talented witch. You scored top marks in your O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s."

"Thirty years ago!" Molly exclaimed, somewhat hysterically.

"What about your duel with Bellatrix?" Kingsley reminded her. "It took a lot of skill to defeat a Dark Witch as powerful as her."

"I had a lot of motivation,"

"I know," Kingsley agreed, rather gently. "And that's why I haven't approached you before now. But the Ministry needs all the good people we can get Molly. You had the opportunity to become an Unspeakable once."

"I was seventeen," Molly replied. "And I became a mother instead."

"And you've raised a wonderful family. But now they're all grown up, Ginny's finished school, she and Harry will be getting married in a few months. Do you really want to be at home by yourself day in day out?"

"I'm a grandmother, I can't be starting a career now!" Molly bemoaned.

"Not even at the special request of the Minister for Magic?" Kingsley asked with a quirked brow. "Take your pick of departments Molly, or, better yet, become an advisor to me. Merlin knows I could use your organisational skills."

"I have to discuss this with Arthur," Molly sighed, worrying the wedding band on her left hand back and forth. "I have two weddings to organize, a house to run, grandchildren to babysit..."

"By all means, discuss it with Arthur," Kingsley agreed. "But Molly, don't you think you've given up enough of your life to your family?"

Hours later, Molly sat at the kitchen table awaiting her husband's return home from work, still turning over Kingsley's words in her head.

It had been many years since Molly had considered the career she might have had, had she chosen to wait to begin a family with Arthur. Upon leaving Hogwarts she had been offered a position as an Unspeakable with the Department of Mysteries, thanks mainly to her proficiency in Charms and her logical approach to research and information intake. She had been forced to turn down the position when she had discovered she was pregnant with Bill. (Which, for someone who had achieved an Outstanding mark in Charms, seemed a little ironic.) Charlie had followed soon after and, for a little while at least, Molly had anticipated potentially being able to begin a career. Then Percy had come along, followed in quick succession by the twins, Ron and then Ginny and somewhere along the way, her plans for a career had fallen by the wayside.

Molly had never regretted her choice to give up a career in order to raise her children. But now that an opportunity presented itself to start working, for the first time in her life, she was sorely tempted. Additionally, she felt that it might be the right thing to do. From the stories her sons and husband told her, she knew that the Ministry was hard pressed for employees, especially those that could be trusted. That she could make a difference, and perhaps fulfill a dream she had had as a young girl, seemed almost too good to be true.

Her mind made up, Molly summoned a quill and parchment, intending to write to Kingsley immediately, lest she change her mind.

At fifty years of age, she was going to have her first job.

* * *

Ginny Weasley (almost Potter) was confused.

Before her sat four letters, all delivered via owl over the past week. All contained offers from professional Quidditch teams, all offering her a place in their team. The Harpies, Wasps and Tornados had each offered her a spot on their Reserve team, with the possibility of a move to their top team if she proved herself worthy. The Cannons had offered her a position in their top team, without her having to go through their reserve team. Her desire to win outweighed her desire to instantly play top-grade professional Quidditch however, and so, she had dismissed the offer from the Cannons outright. However, the other three offers from the Harpies, the Wasps and the Tornados, were harder to chose between.

Ginny was aware that the decision about which team to go to was perhaps the biggest she would make in her life. If she chose the wrong team her career would be over before it had really started.

For most of her life, Ginny had dreamed of one day playing for the Holyhead Harpies, the all witch Quidditch side. When she had received the owl with her offer from them, she had broken into a spontaneous dance that Ron and Percy (her only brother's present at the time) had teased her mercilessly about. The Harpies were, however, a notoriously difficult side to play for, their expectations were higher than any other team in the League and players were often stuck in the Reserve team their entire career. And while the prospect of an all witch team had appealed to Ginny when she was a girl, now, she found the thought a little confronting.

Ginny had never had a lot of girlfriends. Having grown up with brothers she found the bitchiness and treachery of female friendships rather obscure. In fact, other than Hermione and Luna, most of Ginny's friends were male. The idea of being in an all-female environment, all the time, was almost enough to put her off the team she had dreamt of playing for all her life.

Strangely enough, it was Ron who talked her out of that particular train of thought.

"Come off it Gin!" He'd exclaimed, upon hearing Ginny confess her concerns to Harry late one night. "Everyone knows the Harpies are the butchest bunch of witches going around!"

Ginny and Hermione had both vehemently protested Ron's words, but, in truth, they'd struck a chord with Ginny. A little sheepish after she had so passionately rebuffed her brother, she queried what he had meant by his statement.

"Well, there y'know, professional Quidditch players," Ron said, as if this explained everything. "There not like...Hogwart's girls, all about hair and make-up charms, and who's shagging who and who said what about who. They take their shit seriously."

Though she'd never admit it, Ginny rather thought that, despite his lack of articulacy, her brother had a point. Harpies players were professional athletes, not at all like the girls of the Hogwarts dormitories. The thought gave her hope.

Ginny was going to be a Harpy.

* * *

"Harry, who's going to be your best man?"

Harry looked up from the Daily Prophet in surprise at the question. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley sat together at the kitchen table, going over the most minute of wedding details. Harry had long since given up on pretending to care and had snagged the newspaper off Mr. Weasley, who had escaped to his shed. That he was being included in the discussion, especially over such a ridiculous question, seemed to him to be bizarre.

"Ron, of course," he replied, hoping his part had been played and turning back to the piece he had been reading, on the recent Wasps versus Cannons game.

"Of course?" Ginny echoed. "Have you asked him?"

"Isn't it assumed?" Harry had turned back to the paper, and missed the warning signs that Ginny's temper was close to exploding. As such, he all but jumped out of his skin as she yelled the next –

"Assumed?!" She demanded. "Of course it's not assumed! Do you assume that your dress robes will organize themselves? Assume that Ron's organized enough to write a speech or a bucks night? Merlin Harry!"

"Uh... I assume Hermione's organized enough for the both of them?" Harry carefully set the paper aside and moved his chair a little further away from his irate fiancé.

"Harry dear, it might be a good idea for you to actually...ask... Ron to be your best man," Mrs. Weasley intervened hastily. "Also, Ginny's decided on two bridesmaids, Hermione and Luna, so, for the sake of balance, is there somebody else you'd like to have attend you?"

"Neville," Harry answered immediately, thinking of the boy he had known since he was eleven and the man that boy had become.

Ginny's expression softened somewhat, but her voice was still stern as she said –

"Make sure you ask him, and soon. Merlin Harry, we've got so much to organize!"

* * *

It was two days later when Harry finally got around to asking Neville to be a part of the bridal party.

He'd invited Neville to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink after work. It was a ritual they'd completed dozens of times since joining the Auror office, most often joined by Ron or one of their other co-workers. This time, Harry had intentionally kept their plans vague to discourage any of their co-workers from joining them.

The Neville Longbottom that sat opposite Harry nursing a pint was a different man from the boy Harry had known at Hogwarts. Gone was the shy, clumsy, introverted boy. Instead, a self-confident young man who was sure of his abilities had replaced him. If any good had come of the Carrows reign of terror at Hogwarts, it could only be transforming Neville Longbottom into the man he had always had the potential to become.

"No date tonight?" Harry asked Neville, as they ordered their second drink. In the year since they had left Hogwarts, Neville had become quite the witches' man. He seemed to have a date almost every night of the week and wherever he went, witches clambered to get to know, most intimately, the man who was credited with leading the resistance against Voldemort's forces at Hogwarts.

"Later," Neville grinned roguishly.

"You're hopeless," Harry laughed.

"Don't blame me mate," Neville protested, throwing his hands in the air. "Not all of us are lucky enough to have met the love of our life at eleven."

"Still took me long enough to get my act together, as Ginny often reminds me," Harry shook his head.

"Ah well, not long to go now, things are getting a bit hairy I'd expect? Witches and weddings, blimey!"

"You sounds like Ron," Harry laughed, seeing his opportunity and taking it as given. "Actually Nev, I do have a favor to ask of you."

"Oh yeah?"

"I was erh...wondering if you'd like to be a part of the bridal party? That is...be a groomsman?"

"Oh," Neville seemed genuinely astounded that Harry had asked. "Yeah...of course Harry. I'd be honored."

"Good, great," Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Though I have to apologize in advance."

"What for?"

"Bringing you in to this mess. Welcome to the craziness Nev, you'll hate me by the end of it."

* * *

The night was warm, the lights low, the wine free flowing and the music catchy. Laughter and conversation rang out and dozens of couples revolved slowly to the music on the dance floor. The bride and groom, having already discharged their duty to their guests, danced together in the center of the dance floor, pressed so closely together that if not for the different colors of their robes, it would be difficult to tell where one started and one began. Their lips pressed against the others in a slow tango, obviously a warm up to the private celebration they would have of their marriage once they abandoned their guests. From the sidelines, their feet having grown weary from so much dancing, Ron and Hermione sat together, watching the dancers.

"Can you believe it?" Ron was asking rhetorically, for what seemed to be the thousandth time. "That smooch out there, ignoring propriety and snogging his wife, Percy!"

"They've only known each other a year!" Ron continued, when Hermione didn't respond. "They'd only been seeing each other two months when Percy proposed. I can't get over it Hermione! Percy! Percy did something spontaneous!"

"They're in love Ron," Hermione chided gently, still smiling as she watched the bridal couple.

"So are we!" Ron interjected belligerently. "And you don't see us acting like fools."

Hermione didn't respond and Ron immediately felt as if he'd said something wrong. Over the past fifteen months Ron had slowly learnt to interpret Hermione's silences for what they were. Going back over the last few minutes, he could truly see nothing that could have upset her. Deciding that if he couldn't see it, it must not be important, he dismissed the notion that his girlfriend may be unhappy.

Harry and Ginny joined them not long after, flushed from dancing and too much wine and laughing happily as Ginny situated herself in her fiancé's lap.

"I never knew weddings could be so much fun," Harry enthused, drinking deeply from the goblet in front of him.

"Well the last one we went to didn't exactly have an ideal ending did it?" Ron snorted, casting a significant gaze in the direction of Bill and Fleur, who were dancing slowly, their infant daughter clutched firmly between them.

"Ron!" Hermione and Ginny exclaimed indignantly. Harry only shrugged; Ron rather thought that his best mate more than likely agreed with his statement.

"The next wedding we all attend will be ours," Ginny exclaimed, with a rather un-Ginny like giggle.

"I can't wait," Harry told her in a low voice Ron was sure wasn't intended for his ears. "I can't wait for you to be my wife Gin."

His best mate and sister occupied themselves then and Hermione changed the subject abruptly, but not before Ron had seen something resembling wistfulness dance over her features.

"Erh...Hermione," Ron nervously interrupted her tirade on the differences between Muggle and Wizard weddings. "You erh...don't wish we were... more like Harry and Ginny do you?"

"What?" Hermione looked at him, completely nonplussed.

"Y'know," Ron sighed, wishing his incredibly intelligent girlfriend's mind would realize what he meant without him having to spell it out. "Like them, like... y'know."

"No I don't know Ronald," Hermione sighed tiredly. "If I did know we wouldn't be having this ridiculous conversation."

"Getting married," Ron exclaimed eventually. "Do you want to get married?"

Hermione looked at him in shock, her eyebrows raised delicately.

"Are you asking?"

"No! I mean, not now, obviously. Not right now," Ron felt a bead of sweat fall from his hair line, down the bridge of his nose, landing with a salty splat on his upper lip.

"Are you asking if I want to start a family soon, rather than waiting for us both to establish our careers?" Hermione took pity on her floundering boyfriend.

"Kind of...not exactly," Ron hedged. "I'm not talking about having kids or anything I mean _obviously_ we're too young for that." A sudden thought occurred to him. "Surely Harry and Ginny aren't going to have brats straight away?"

"I doubt that Harry and Ginny are ever intending on 'having brats,'" Hermione quoted sarcastically. "Seriously though Ron, where has this come from?"

"You just looked so... I dunno, happy," Ron shrugged. "I'd always assumed you wanted to wait a while to get married. But then you were saying how romantic it was that Percy and Audrey got married so quickly and even _I_ can see how excited you are for Harry and Ginny's wedding, it just...makes a bloke wonder y'know?"

"You're incredibly sweet Ronald Weasley," Hermione's expression softened and she reached out a hand to touch his cheek. "But I'm in no rush. We'll be moving in together after Harry and Ginny's wedding and for now, for me, that's enough."

Ron grinned a relieved smile and pulled Hermione towards him for an enthusiastic kiss. She was blushing brightly as they pulled away and tried her best to adopt a stern mien.

"Just so you know though Ron, I don't want to wait forever."

"Don't you worry Hermione Granger, I'll get you when you least expect it," Ron tugged her to her feet, ignoring her protests that her feet were sore and that the cake was due to be cut.

"I love you," he murmured into her hair as they revolved slowly around the floor.

"I know," Ron could feel rather than see her smile. "I love you too."

And in that moment, for them, that was enough.

* * *

_A bit of a filler chapter I know, but I really wanted to include all these little tidbits. Next chapter, our favorite couple say 'I do'._

_As a thank you to those who review I have an excerpt from this chapter of Harry asking Ron to be his best man, I think you'll all like it, I know I do._

_A word on the future of this story –_

_All Was Well will be winding down soon. I still anticipate it being between 20 and 30 chapters long, but soon, time will skip forward much more quickly as we only check in with our favorite characters every now and again. For me as a writer, this story has served it's purpose, which was getting back into writing regularly. When I finish posting this story, another will start, this one a multi-chapter fic which I will be using as a warm up for the novel I plan on writing next year. As such, I'll be looking forward to receiving as much constructive criticism as you're all willing to share in order to improve my writing skills. Also, I'll be looking for a beta and possibly, pre-readers, to help me hone my skills. If this is something you're interested in, please PM me. _

_Thank you, as always, for reading._

_SR. _


	14. Chapter 14 - A Series of Outtakes

**Please Note:**

- A moment of your time before you start reading and become confused. I'm terribly sorry about the delay between posts. Further, this is not Chapter Fourteen as originally intended. Recently, life has thrown me a curve ball. In the last fortnight, two members of my family have passed away, both very unexpectedly. As I'm sure you can imagine, all my time of late has been dedicated to my family as we attempt to deal with our grief. As such, my time for writing has been minimal and truly, when I've had time, my heart's just not been in it. Chapter Fourteen was meant to portray Harry and Ginny's wedding, but at the moment, as heartsick as I am, I've found I'm unable to do such an event justice. I've had the image of Harry and Ginny's wedding day in my mind since well before I started this story and I want to write it as well as I can. As such I'm not sure when I will next update again, but I'm hopeful of it being very soon. In the meantime, I've compiled four outtakes from All Was Well together in this post, to make up for my absence. I know many of you will have already read them, but I'm hoping, given the circumstances you can forgive me.

Thank you for your continued support and understanding

SR.

* * *

_Outtake One: Fleur's Frustration_

_- Outtake one takes place between Chapters 6 and 7. It was originally intended to be a stand alone chapter in it's own right, but I found it worked better kept short and reflective. Enjoy._

Fleur Weasley (nee Delacour) was frustrated.

Frustration wasn't a common emotion for the young woman. Stunningly beautiful in a way that was as unearthly as it was potent, Fleur was rather used to getting her own way. She'd never failed, not once in her life. The closest she had ever come had been in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament and even Fleur herself had to admit that that had been a rather exceptional circumstance.

And here she was, failing in the most basic of ways. Failing at what should have been as natural and easy as breathing. Failing in a way that made her feel like less of a woman, a feeling the beautiful young witch could never have imagined only months previously.

It had been two nights after the conclusion of the war when her husband, Bill, had introduced the subject. It had been their first night back at Shell Cottage and Fleur had been holding her husband as he wept for the loss of his younger brother Fred. Eventually an odd sort of calm had fallen over them both, and still they sat together, straining to hear the sound of waves crashing onto the rocks somewhere below them, unbelievably thankful that, despite their losses, they still had each other.

Out of nowhere Bill had sat bolt upright, dislodging Fleur from her position on his chest.

"Let's have a baby," he had said, his eyes glistening with excitement now, instead of tears. "The war's over, let's have a baby."

Fleur sat up too, regarding him quizzically. Starting a family had been something they had discussed before they had married and both had been eager to have a baby as quickly as possible. After their wedding however, with the war worsening and their futures unclear, both had agreed to wait. That obstacle had been removed most dramatically only two days prior and Bill, it seemed, was no longer willing to wait.

And so they had agreed, they were to have a baby.

And almost five months later, they were still waiting.

Bill maintained he wasn't concerned, that when a baby was ready to join them, it would. Fleur was not quite as optimistic. She had expected, rather naively perhaps, that as soon as the decision was made, and the necessary steps to procreation taken, that she would be pregnant. Her life, thus far, had worked that way. She had decided to achieve nine O.W.L.'s, had studied and had achieved the nine. She had decided to become Triwizard Champion, had applied and had been selected. Decided to pursue Bill, batted her eyelashes, and he had fallen for her. In Fleur's mind it had followed that having a baby would occur in a similar fashion.

The reality of the situation was shockingly different from her expectations. Despite their best efforts, no baby had been forthcoming. Fleur's determination had only increased as time went by and despite Bill's pleas for her to relax and let nature take it's course, Fleur was worried. She was unused to failure and that was exactly what she considered this to be, a failure.

And so, with the determination that came only from a lifetime of getting one's way, Fleur decided. By Christmas, she would have a bump to show off underneath her Weasley jumper.

* * *

_Outtake Two: Tea, Tartan and Sympathy_

_- Outtake two takes place at the conclusion of Chapter Nine (the day after Harry's proposal). It was originally intended to be included in Chapter Nine, but I found it disrupted the flow too much. I couldn't however, ignore Minerva's words of wisdom, and so decided to share them this way. Enjoy._

When her world stopped spinning and Ginny was ejected from the fireplace in the Headmistresses office of Hogwarts, tears were streaking down her cheeks. Ginny hated crying, despised those that cried at the drop of a hat and here she was, crying because it would be a month until she saw her boyfriend…her fiancé.

"Good evening Miss Weasley," Ginny startled as a soft tartan handkerchief was pressed into her hand. "Take a seat. Tea?"

In truth, all Ginny wanted was to retire to her dormitory and draw the hangings around her bed, blocking out the world and allowing herself the refuge of a few more tears. Not seeing any polite way to refuse the headmistress however, Ginny nodded her ascent.

"I hope you had a pleasant weekend with your family?" Professor McGonagall enquired, passing Ginny her tea and pushing a plate of Ginger Newts towards her.

"It was lovely," Ginny smiled, sipping her tea and immediately feeling it's restorative effects. "The baby is beautiful and Angelina's really well," she paused, feeling a flutter of excitement at sharing their news with someone other than her immediately family. "Harry asked me to marry him."

"Congratulations Ginny, this is happy news!" Professor McGonagall smiled warmly, before her expression turned shrewish. "I'm sure you would much rather be at home now, rather then returning to your studies?"

"It was hard to leave," Ginny admitted, staring into the depths of her teacup and swallowing convulsively around the lump in her throat. "Harder than I expected."

The Headmistress was silent for several long moments and when she eventually spoke it was in a surprisingly emotional tone –

"You're an exceptionally talented young witch Ginny. Had you been any other member of my house I would have been hounding you day and night to apply to become a Healer or take an apprenticeship under a Master Wizard. But I believe I know you rather well Ginny, and I know that you'll be happiest playing Quidditch during the day and going home to Harry every night. If you were any one else Ginny, I'd push, but I've been rather fond of you ever since you were pulled half alive from the Chamber of Secrets seven years ago, so I won't push. Instead I'll wish you all the very best and wait for my invitation to the wedding."

Ginny was astounded. She had always been inordinately fond of her former Head of House, but had never expected that Professor McGonagall might feel the same about her. Snapping her mouth shut, and knowing that if her mother could hear her now she would have a little of Kneazles, she replied –

"We're thinking December for the wedding Headmistress, you can await your invitation by owl."

* * *

_Outtake Three: Dawn Reflections_

_- Like the previous outtakes, outtake three was originally intended to be a part of Chapter Ten. When Charlie Weasley hijacked Chapter Ten and refused to give it back, poor George was relegated to an outtake. It's intended as a short foray into George's mind and the nature of his relationships with his wife, dead brother and son. Enjoy._

George Weasley stood by the window in his son's nursery in the early hours of the morning of April 1st, staring unseeingly at the busy London street below. It was the morning of his 21st birthday, but celebrating was the last thing on his mind. As of that very morning, he was officially older than his twin brother. It felt so abhorrently wrong, that, if not for the tiny bundle sleeping peacefully in his arms, George didn't know what he would have done.

Looking down into the face of his son, George was filled with such a profound sense of appreciation for the gift his brother had left him. Without little Freddie and without Angelina, George was unsure that he would have survived the last nine months. They had been a gift; George had realized not so very long ago, a parting gift from his twin brother.

Despite the peace and happiness Angelina and Freddie had brought to his life, George was still overwhelmed by an extreme sense of guilt. For all intents and purposes, he was living his twin's life and to enjoy it, seemed both the best and worst thing he could do to his brother's memory.

The baby stirred sleepily in his arms and George immediately made a soft shushing noise that only four months ago he never would have known to employ. If his life had previously been divided into before the Battle of Hogwarts and after, now it was divided into before the baby had been born, and after. Little Freddie had totally changed his life, not only through the sleepless nights and rancid smells he produced, but for the sense of purpose he had brought to George's life. He provided a reason to get up every morning and a reason to hurry home from the shop every night. The fact that George was completely besotted with Freddie's mother didn't hurt either.

George wasn't sure when he had fallen head over heels in love with Angelina. Perhaps it had been the first time he had seen the bump of the baby under her clothes, or the first time she had thrown herself into his arms voluntarily, after having a bad day. Perhaps it had been a slow process, culminating in the birth of their son. Regardless, it seemed ironic to him that he was violently in love with his wife, and that she had no idea.

The baby stirred again in his arms, this time waking, his little arms and legs flailing as hard as they could inside his tightly wrapped blanket. With a sigh, George shushed him again, making for the kitchen and the bottle that awaited little Freddie there.

Easter was only three days away. George had begged his parents not to celebrate his birthday, instead, the entire family was gathering for the holiday. Ginny was to arrive from Hogwarts that very morning, but George had declined his mother's dinner invitation; he preferred instead to spend the day with his wife and son.

* * *

_Outtake Four: An Ass of You and Me_

_- Outtake four entered my mind before I began writing All Was Well and stuck with me. Originally, it stems from a conversation I overheard (re: eavesdropped on), between my partner and his brother. In fact, Harry and Ron's words are taken almost word for word from the conversation I heard. The memory always brings a smile to my face and it seemed so very suited to Harry and Ron. Enjoy!_

Ginny's fiery rebuff still ringing in his ears, Harry resolved to ask Ron as soon as possible about being his best man. He found it rather ridiculous that he should have to ask, assuming, that, like him, Ron would simply have presupposed that the role was his.

Upon returning to their flat from the Burrow, Harry found Ron nursing a cup of tea at their small kitchen table. Ron was on night shifts and struggling greatly with the adjustment to his usual sleep schedule. As such he'd elected not to join Harry at the Burrow that morning, though now, Harry rather wished he had been there, it would have saved Harry now having to ask such a stupid question.

"Hey mate," Harry pointed his wand at the teapot and watched as it poured a cup for him. "Get some sleep in?"

"Just woke up," Ron yawned, stretching largely as he scratched. "How's things at home?"

"Barmey mate," Harry shook his head in memory of the dozens of fabric swatches and differently arranged napkins that Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had been pouring over when they left. "Did you know that there's no such color as green?"

"Huh?"

"It's not green it's olive or jade or lime or emerald or frigging boogey for all I know," Harry threw himself into his favorite arm chair.

"Harry mate, I've got no clue what you're talking about," Ron confessed, his brow furrowed as he ploughed through a care package that Mrs. Weasley had sent home with Harry.

"Bloody bridesmaids dressers or some such thing," Harry shook his head in disgust. "Apparently it's vital that the shade of green exactly matches my eyes. I ask you, is it me wearing the bloody thing?"

Ron sniggered.

"Better you than me mate."

"Yeah well about that," Harry wasn't ashamed to admit that he felt more than a little pleasure in dragging Ron into the fracas. "Do you wanna be my best man?"

Ron looked up, so surprised that he stopped eating.

"Uh, I'd already kind of assumed I was,"

"I know!" Harry exclaimed. "So had I, but according to Ginny and your mum, I have to _ask_! And you have to organize a bucks night and a speech and some other stuff that I probably should remember."

Ron looked at Harry as if he'd grown a second head and declared his intention to become an opera singer.

"Women mate, I tell you."

Harry heartily agreed.

* * *

_Again, I thank you for your continued support and understanding._

_SR. _


	15. Chapter 15 - Bonded for Life

**AN:** _Thank you to all my wonderful readers for your amazing support and patience. The love and sympathy I received from you all was truly overwhelming and I can't express my appreciation enough. I should now be back to a regular posting schedule. But for now, we have a wedding to attend.._

[/i]

* * *

**Name: **Bonded For Life

**Date: **December 11th, 1999

**Rating:** T

**Genre: **Romance

* * *

"_Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts."_

_- William Shakespeare_

_[/i]_

* * *

The morning of December 11th, 1999 dawned early and surprisingly bright for Ginny Weasley in her small bedroom off the first floor landing of the Burrow. She would most likely never spend another night in her childhood bedroom again and as she slowly came awake she made sure to take in every feeling and sensation as they washed over her. From the soft, warn cotton of her sheets to the sound of her parents moving about down stairs, Ginny reveled in every sensation that she had so often before taken for granted. It was hard for her to believe that her last name would only be Weasley for another few hours and that, come the next morning, the Burrow would no longer be her home.

Only the week before she and Harry had taken the lease on an apartment in metro Birmingham, their agreed upon city, as it was midway between London and Holyhead and their respective places of work. Harry had argued that they ought to immediately purchase a house, but Ginny had demurred, instead wanting an authentic newlywed experience of learning to cohabitate in a tiny, cramped apartment. She was quite certain that Harry thought her reasoning crazy, but, being the sweet man he was, simply went along with it. Before they moved into their apartment however, they were bound for a twelve day honeymoon, their destination unknown to Ginny. Before that however, they had to make it through the day.

To Ginny's immense surprise and relief their had been no last minute disasters in their plans. It had been snowing steadily for five days now, but, as Ginny slipped out of bed and padded silently over to her window, she realized that it seemed to have stopped overnight. The result was a brisk, sunny morning, with a beautiful blanket of white surrounding the Burrow. It was as picturesque a day as she could have hoped for.

Ginny leaned against the window frame, determined to enjoy these last few moments of solitude. Soon, she knew her mother would descend upon her and chaos would reign. The ceremony was not until dusk, but she was sure that her mother would find plenty to keep her occupied between now and then. This might be her last opportunity to be alone for weeks.

To her immense surprise, Ginny wasn't nervous about the day to come. A little anxious that everything would go according to plan to be sure, but that was the chief source of her disquiet. The second thoughts she had been waiting to have had not yet come and, she rather thought they never would. If anything, she was only anxious for time to fast forward, until the moment when she would see the love of her life waiting for her at an alter in an enchanted marquee in the backyard of the Burrow.

* * *

Harry managed to sleep late the morning of December 11th. To his surprise, when he woke it was to the delicious aromas of a cooked breakfast and, as he stumbled out of his bedroom towards the kitchen of the flat, he was even more surprised to find Ron and Neville cooking up a storm.

"Morning," he greeted them, snagging a piece of bacon straight out of the pan.

"Morning," they returned, Ron slapping Harry's hand away in a gesture so reminiscent of his mother that Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm getting married today," Harry realized suddenly, as he piled food on his plate. "Cool."

"You're very...ah...calm?" Neville queried.

"What's not to be calm about?" Harry asked, through a mouthful of eggs.

"Oh I don't know, the fact that you're tying yourself to one bird for the rest of your life today," Ron said sarcastically, seeming to forget for a moment that the 'bird' in question was in fact his younger sister.

"I've been committed to Ginny for going on two years now," Harry shrugged. "Getting married to her doesn't change that, just makes it official, you know?"

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned. "Don't go sprouting too much of that soppy shit mate, you make the rest of us look bad."

"We're not due at the Burrow for another few hours at least," Neville glanced at his wrist-watch. "What did you want to do to fill the time Harry?"

Harry shrugged. His paper work had all been completed and handed in the night before in preparation for the three weeks holidays he had taken. That night, at the conclusion of the wedding celebrations, he and Ginny we're headed for a two week honeymoon in the south of France. They would make it back just in time to celebrate Christmas with their family, before settling into their new apartment, and resuming their lives as normal. It struck Harry quite suddenly that, as of that morning, he and Ron were no longer roommates, after almost nine years of cohabitation.

"Exploding Snap anyone?"

* * *

The morning flew by in between games of Exploding Snap and Wizarding Chess. Distracted as they were by the games, it took a very irate fire call from Mrs. Weasley to remind them that they were past due to be at the Burrow. A flurry of activity was the result, as the three of them hastily summoned their dress robes and Apparated to the Burrow.

Harry was summarily pushed into Ron's old bedroom, lest he accidently see Ginny or any of the preparations that were taking place outside. As he was unceremoniously deposited on Ron's Cannons covered bed, George informed him that guests had already begun arriving.

"Beginning to think you had the right idea of it mate," Harry grumbled, as George winked at him and began casting anti-Apparition wards around Ron's bedroom. "Don't you think you're overdoing it a bit?"

"Mum informs me it's bad luck for you to see the bride," George enlightened him. "And we've, that is to say, all of us Weasley's, have agreed that we're not taking any chances with bad luck when it comes to you Potter."

"Har bloody har," Harry grumbled. "I can't even have the company of my groomsmen?"

"Ron and Nev? Why would you want to see those berks," George laughed. "They'll be along soon mate, they're with dad, seeing to the celebrant. You should probably take the opportunity to get changed."

"Yeah, right thanks George," Harry pointed his wand at the bag containing his dress robes to reveal them. Behind him, George snorted.

"You're going to be just fine mate,"

"Sorry?"

"Well it's pretty clear mum and Ginny chose the colour of your robes," George indicated the bottle-ink green robes. "If you keep doing what you're told, life married to a Weasley woman is going to be a breeze."

"In a few hours Ginny won't be a Weasley anymore," Harry reminded his almost brother-in-law with a grin. "But thanks anyway George."

The never-serious Weasley came forward, his mien very sober indeed and clasped Harry on the shoulder.

"It'll be an honor to call you my brother Harry Potter,"

And before Harry could return the sentiment, George was gone.

Harry was by himself only long enough to pull of his shoes before Charlie and Bill Weasley were knocking on Ron's bedroom door, seeking entry.

"Hey guys," Harry greeted them easily. "Is this the bit where Ginny's oldest brother's try to scar the crap out of me and warn me that they'll kill me if I ever hurt her?"

"Huh?" Charlie blurted, seemingly bemused, while Bill merely snorted in derision.

"Hardly," Bill rolled his eyes at Harry. "Any other guy, yeah, but you? I think your exempt mate."

"Some benefits of being The Conqueror I guess," Harry referenced the latest title the Wizarding media had bestowed upon him after the defeat of Lord Voldemort.

"Don't be a prat Harry," Charlie told him bluntly. "It has nothing to do with you being the Conqueror, or the Chosen One or the Boy Who Lived or a bloody good Seeker," Charlie could never quite bring himself to call Harry the_ best_ seeker Hogwarts had ever seen.

"What's it got to do with then?"

"You're a member of this family Harry," Bill shook his head, as if that much should have been obvious. "Have been since you were eleven years of age. The fact that you're marrying the firecracker hardly matters."

"Firecracker?" Harry grinned, knowing their must be a story behind that nickname.

"Mum banned us from calling Ginny that when she was seven and blew up our brooms in a fit of accidental magic," Charlie explained with a fond, reminiscing grin. "And that Harry, brings us to the point of our little visit."

"Which is?" Harry asked, when no answer was forthcoming.

"George and Percy were meant to be here for this," Bill frowned. "Don't know what's keeping them. Ron refused to take any part in it, the wimp."

"George has already imparted some words of advice," Harry rolled his eyes. "Haven't seen Percy though?"

"Judging from the noises I heard coming from his old bedroom, I'd say he's been...erh... unavoidably detained," Charlie smirked. "It's always been a fantasy of his, old Perce, having a girl in his childhood bedroom. Never mind that the woman in question is his wife."

"Right," Bill clasped his hands together, appearing ready to get down to business. "Well there's no helping some. Harry, we're here to impart some words of wisdom. We've years of knowledge at your disposal."

"Right," Harry snorted. "Because you've both been married for so long?"

"No," Charlie shook his head, smiling condescendingly at Harry. "Because we've years of experience in living with the Weasley women, and lived to tell the tale."

Harry choked on a bark of laughter that rose unintentionally in his throat.

"It's no laughing matter mate," Bill frowned. "Their were times along the way it was rather a close call whether we'd live or die you know? And I'm not talking about falling off of broomsticks or dueling Death Eaters here. I'm talking about dealing with Mum's temper."

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not marrying your mum."

"Ginny's worse," Charlie breathed, as if imparting some horrific truth. "If you do something to really get her in a snit, Ginny's worse."

"You think I don't know your sister's a force to be reckoned with?" Harry laughed. "I reckon she had to be, growing up with you lot."

"Us?" Charlie shook his head vehemently. "You've got it the wrong way about mate."

"Let's not argue the point here," Bill placated. "The important thing is, over the years, we've learnt a few ways to stay on Ginevra Molly Weasley's good side."

With a cocked brow, Harry reclined against the doorframe, folding his arms. His entire posture reeked of passive disinterest.

"Ah Bill," Charlie sighed theatrically. "He doesn't understand."

"We're giving you the tools to survive here mate!" Bill insisted earnestly. "Sometimes the best thing to do is to back away slowly, don't make eye contact."

"Other times, that's the worst thing you could do. Sometimes it's best to just take whatever she throws at you. But have your wand at the ready for a shield curse mate."

"So how do I tell the difference between when to back away and when to take it?" Harry asked, rather amused by the eldest Weasley brothers.

"Huh?" Charlie and Bill looked at each other in comic bewilderment. Obviously this was something they had never thought of. Harry's grin widened as they slowly began to back out of the room.

"Well you can't expect us to give you all the answers mate," Charlie laughed uncomfortably. "Gotta leave you to figure some things out for yourself."

"You'll be fine Harry," Bill told him. "Just, listen to our advice and you'll be just fine."

"Sure, thanks guys," Harry was barely containing his laughter at this point. "See you shortly."

Harry was alone only long enough to strip down to his t-shirt and underwear before there was another knock on his door.

Percy Weasley appeared, his hair rather rumpled, his robes somewhat wrinkled. Harry barely managed to stifle a smile at the most pompous Weasley's unkempt appearance, thinking, not for the first time, how very good Audrey was for Percy.

"Harry, don't suppose Bill and Charlie have already called in?"

"You've just missed them Percy," Harry grinned. "They mentioned you were erh...other wise occupied."

"Indeed," Percy flushed brightly and ran a hand through his ginger hair. "Sorry about that old man, had intended to join the discussion."

"You didn't miss much," Harry promised him.

"You're running out of time to change Harry, you do know that don't you?"

"I do," Harry agreed, casting an eye out the window, were the shadows of approaching dusk were gathering. "I suppose I ought to get changed."

"Of course, I'll leave you be," Percy offered his hand solemnly. "Welcome to the family Harry, officially I mean. You and Ginny are very lucky to have each other."

"Thanks Percy," Harry replied, genuinely touched. "I hope we can be as happy together as you and Audrey."

Percy flushed again, reading a double entendre into Harry's words that had been completely unintended and left Harry alone to his ministrations.

Harry had just fastened his robes shut when another knock on the door came.

It was Mrs. Weasley, resplendent in silver dress robes. Her eyes filled with tears as she first laid eyes on him. A second later, Harry was crossing the room and wrapping her in his embrace.

"Oh my very dear boy, look at you!" She beamed at him, pulling back and fussing over his robes. "So handsome, so grown up!"

Harry grinned at her, enjoying her maternal fussing in a way he knew neither Ron nor his brothers would ever understand.

"How's Ginny?" He asked.

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears again immediately. "She's so very beautiful Harry, and so excited to see you."

"The feeling's mutual," Harry sighed, eyeing his watch and willing time to hurry along. "Any last minute advice?"

"Stand up straight, no playing with you hair and robes," Mrs. Weasley instructed sternly then she softened and held his hands warmly in her own. "Never go to bed on an argument, always remember the love you feel for each other today, no matter how hard things get. Be so very happy my darling boy, always."

Harry found himself in her arms again, whispering into her hair –

"Thanks mum."

Mrs. Weasley was gone then, with more tears and a stern reminder to be downstairs in fifteen minutes.

Harry faced the mirror then, compulsively straightening his robes and hair, adjusting the tie knot that sat uncomfortably around his neck. Despite his lack of choice in the matter, Harry had to admit that the strange combination of robes and a Muggle suit looked quite dashing indeed.

As the mirror pronounced him perfect, Harry suddenly realized the wisdom of his not having been left alone all day. The combination of finally being on his own and of Mrs. Weasley's fussing made his heart ache for those that ought to have been there that day and were not.

He wondered what they would have said, how they would have been, what they would have done. His eyes filled with tears and a sad smile stretched over his face as he thought of what might have been, had the fates allowed. He imagined Sirius's teasing, Remus' advice, James' pride and Lily's gentle fussing. He imagined having the four of them walk him down the isle to await his bride, the tears in their eyes as he and Ginny spoke their vows, and their congratulatory hugs immediately after. He wondered what words of wisdom they would have offered him in these final few moments, before he pledged his love and life to Ginny Weasley. Standing alone in Ron Weasley's bedroom at the Burrow, his heart ached for the absence of those that had loved him first.

His time with each of them had been too short, too painfully ended. But the advice Sirius had once offered him rang true. _The ones we love never truly leave us._ With his eyes closed he could almost imagine that they were there. He heard Sirius' laughter, Remus' gentle rebuke, James' pride, Lily's fussing. He felt hands clasping his shoulders, ruffling his hair, a feather light kiss being brushed across his cheek. A smile graced his face as he realized that though his family may not be with him in body, they were certainly with him in spirit. When he opened his eyes it was to find Ron and Neville beside him, each with an arm around his shoulder. The family he had chosen had rallied around him that afternoon, and he was grateful.

* * *

What felt like seconds later, Harry found himself shifting uncomfortably as the eyes of their guests bore into him. Ginny was, apparently, moments away and Harry was eagerly anticipating her arrival. It was all he could do not to charge down the aisle in search of her.

"Patience mate," Ron warned lowly, as if knowing exactly what Harry was thinking. "She'll be here shortly."

"I guess I better get used to waiting on your sister," Harry muttered, causing Ron to bark with laughter that was quickly smothered.

A trill of music from the enchanted instruments to the side of the stage brought the guests to their feet and causes a flutter of nerves to stir in Harry's stomach.

Mrs. Weasley was first down the aisle, smiling broadly and blushing brightly. Luna followed, all but dancing on air, feather light as she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss Harry's cheek. Hermione was next, tears streaming down her cheeks as she squeezed Harry as tightly as she was able, whispering her love for him. Little Teddy Lupin came then, walking unsteadily down the aisle as ring bearer. Harry gave him a covert thumbs up for a job well done and received a toothy grin in response. The music changed and Harry's heart leaped into his throat.

Ginny was approaching him then, an angel on her father's arm. Tears were pouring down Harry's cheeks as she approached and were made worse as Arthur kissed first Ginny's cheek, then Harry's forehead as he slipped Ginny's hand into Harry's.

The words of the celebrant, the tears and laughter of their guests, Harry heard none of it. All he was aware of was the feel of Ginny's hands clasped in his and the warmth of her eyes and the love shinning out of them, just for him.

The night continued, they were embraced, congratulated, toasted and teased. They danced, mingled, ate and drank and Harry absorbed none of the details that Mrs. Weasley had so slaved over.

None of it mattered, except for the face that Ginny was in his arms, their lips had met and they had been declared, irrevocably, bonded for life.


	16. Chapter 16 - A Christmas Interlude

**Name: **A Christmas Interlude

**Date: **December 25th, 1999

**Rating:** T

**Genre: **Family/Fluff

* * *

'_The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.'_

_- Burton Hillis_

* * *

[/i]

"I'm really not seeing a reason to leave this bed," Ginny sighed as Harry's lips moved lazily across her neck. "Nothing can be better than this."

"Mhmm," Harry agreed, certainly not wanting to argue with such a statement.

"Surely everyone would understand," Ginny gasped as Harry's teeth found a particularly sensitive spot.

"We've just returned from our honeymoon and spent the first night in our new apartment. I'm sure they'd understand exactly what we'd be spending the day doing,"

"I don't want this to end," Ginny moaned, her fingers finding purchase in Harry's hair. He grinned against her flesh, thinking silently to himself that it was a wonder he had any hair left after the amount of time Ginny had spent tugging on it in the last fortnight.

"It's going to end eventually," Harry reminded her. "And it is Christmas day, surely you want to see your family?"

"They're not going anywhere," Ginny argued. "And the Burrow is going to be bursting at the seams. They won't miss us."

"You don't have to convince me Ginny Potter," even two weeks later Harry still got a thrill every time he referred to Ginny by her new name.

"It's a bit strange really," Ginny mused. "Every one is going to know exactly what we've spent our time doing for the last fortnight."

"We have a piece of parchment that says were allowed now," Harry grinned, referring to their certificate of marriage. "And besides, I really hope they don't know _exactly _what we've been doing for the last two weeks."

Ginny swatted him, stretching as she did so, luxuriating in the feel of the new sheets she and Harry had purchased for their new bed in their new apartment. Never in her life had Ginny had so many new things and, while she felt a little guilt for it, she was also revelling in the creature comforts it provided.

"I love our apartment," she sighed happily, snuggling against Harry's chest. "Don't you love it Harry?"

"It's nice," Harry admitted. "Too small though."

"We don't need a house yet Harry," Ginny grinned, enjoying the argument which had oft been repeated between them. "The apartment is perfect for now."

"Small, though," Harry insisted.

"Cosy," Ginny replied. "Or now that you've got me shackled to you for all eternity are you hoping I'm going to spit out a few kids?"

"I certainly hope you're not going to 'spit out' any kids," Harry rebutted, looking horrified. "And as far as I know, our plan to wait at least five more years before we have children still stands, unless you know something I don't."

"We've certainly been busy enough to change those plans," Ginny grinned saucily at him. "Lucky we're both so good at Charms. We could test those charms out and stay in bed all day?"

"You're insatiable Mrs. Potter," Harry nuzzled her neck again. "I have a feeling your mother would march straight through the Floo and drag us out of bed if we didn't show up though."

"Urgh!" Ginny exclaimed. "Fine, you're right. We'll go."

"How long do you need to get ready?" Harry asked, glancing at his wrist watch on the bedside table to his left. "We've got an hour before we have to be there."

"Not that long," Ginny grinned, knowing, as Harry pounced atop her that there was no way they were going to make it to the Burrow within the hour.

* * *

Through a lot of rushing around and a shared shower (the activities of which delayed them even further), Harry and Ginny found themselves only a half hour late to Christmas lunch at the Burrow.

Ginny had been right, the Burrow was bursting at the seams. The crowd was liberally doused with red heads, but enough non-Weasley's were present to make up the numbers. They all seemed to surge forward as Harry and Ginny stepped out of the Floo, all with wishes of a merry Christmas and demanding details of their honeymoon.

"You're glowing!" Mrs. Weasley had exclaimed, upon first laying eyes on her only daughter.

"She better not be," Bill had growled from behind his mother. "I don't want to know what's responsible for that glow!"

Both Ginny and Harry had blushed at that statement, prompting cat calls from some of their gathered family and friends, and groans of disgust from others. Mrs. Weasley, blushing herself, redirected the assembled masses to the sitting room for the gift exchange.

The next several minutes resembled something like what Harry imagined a feeding frenzy of wild Parana's would look like. Everybody dove in, gifts flying through the air, gift wrap was torn off with gusto, exclamations of delight and thanks were all that were heard for ten minutes at least. As quickly as it had all begun, it finished and they all sat back to examine the multitude of gifts they had received.

"There's one gift left," Mr. Weasley announced, leaving the room.

"It's to Harry and Ginny, from all of us," Mrs. Weasley explained. "We know it's been hard for you Harry, since Hedwig, but you and Ginny are a family now and every family needs it's own owl."

Arthur was back then, carrying a cage, inside of which was one of the most magnificent owl's Harry had ever seen. He was aware of Ginny's gasp and, to his embarrassment, felt his eyes stinging with tears as he peered into the soulful eyes of his new owl.

He was a magnificent creature. Huge and a very dark grey, his yellow eyes blinked intelligently at them as he regarded his new family.

"He's a Great Grey," Arthur explained, opening the cage and allowing the owl to step out self-importantly. "They're pretty rare in this part of the world, but when we saw him we knew he was perfect for you."

He was as different from Harry's first friend as it was possible for an owl to be. And Harry found himself immediately thankful that the Weasley's had understood. Hedwig could never be replaced in his heart and having a new owl that at all resembled her would have been too painful for Harry to stand. This huge, magnificent creature's only resemblence to his predecessor was the intelligence that his eyes exhibited.

"His name is Glaucus," Molly put in. "It means 'grey' in Ancient Greek Mythology. He's only young though, so you could most likely change it if you wanted to."

"It's perfect," Harry decided, looking to Ginny for confirmation that she agreed. "Thank you so much, everyone."

"Lunch!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, tearing the attention away from Harry as he solemnly held his arm out of Glaucus. "Quickly everyone, into the dining room now before everything goes cold."

Harry shot Mrs. Weasley a thankful smile, glad he was alone as he reached forward for the first time to stroke the feathery head of the young owl.

"He sure is a beauty," he muttered to Ginny, who he knew had lingered. "I'm glad they did this, it would have been too hard to do it myself... you know?"

"I know," Ginny reached forward as well, introducing herself to their new pet. "Glaucus will live a long and happy life the way Hedwig deserved to Harry. I'm sure our kids will grow up with him in their lives."

"You're making me paranoid Mrs. Potter," Harry grinned, dropping a kiss upon her lips chastely. "Better keep practicing those charms."

* * *

"Harry, I'm really not sure that broomstick was such a good idea," Hermione worried, watching as Teddy attempted to mount his Christmas present.

"Relax Hermione, I had one at his age," Ginny laughed, holding Teddy's chubby hands in her own to aid his balance.

"And look at you now! Covered in bruises and bumps," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"They're not from Quidditch training," Harry grinned wickedly, ignoring the groans of his new brother-in-laws'.

"Andromeda said the broomstick was fine," Harry had eyes only for his godson and missed the gesture Ginny shot his way. "Besides, look at him, he's a natural."

"Meanwhile we look like the most uncool parents in the world," George shot a meaningful glance at his son, who had cried himself to sleep in jealousy of Teddy's present.

"It says eighteen months and above on the packaging," Harry felt immensely guilty for not thinking of baby Fred. "I'll buy him one in six months time."

"Nah, the kids spoilt enough," George rolled his eyes. "I think we need to give him a sibling just to take him down a peg."

"Don't let mum hear you say that," Ron warned. "Next thing you know she'll be in your bedroom scattering shrivelfig petals and lighting scented candles to set the mood."

"Don't go their Ron, ever, ever again," George shuddered. "Someone please Merlin change the subject."

"How long till dinner," Ron moaned, rubbing his stomach theatrically. "I'm starving."

"You had four helpings not two hours ago! Hermione exclaimed. "Besides, if you're really that hungry you could go and help your mother in the kitchen."

"Nah, she's happy there, wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Teddy," Harry warned, as the little boy urged his broom higher, so he was hovering at waist level. "Not too high."

"High, high, high!" He chanted, pointing his broom towards the ceiling. Harry had his wand out in a millisecond, taking control of the broom and directing it down to a more appropriate level.

"You're going to need to watch out for that one," Ginny laughed as Harry ran a wearied hand over his face. "Constant vigilance and all that."

They all laughed and shared fond (and somewhat inappropriate) stories of Mad-Eye, which morphed into stories of Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore and of course Fred. Eighteen months on, their memories of their fallen comrades were more easily shared, tinged more with happiness than grief. Life, as it was wont to do, continued to move forward.

* * *

_Short and rather pointless I know, but I've been trying to work Harry getting a new owl in for ages and this was the best way I knew how. I hope you all enjoyed it._

_Time will now start moving much more quickly for our favourite characters, and we will only be checking in with them for the most important events in their lives. Is there anything you would particularly like to see? Please let me know._

_Thank you, as always for reading and reviewing._

_SR._


	17. Chapter 17 - Growing Pains

**Name: **Growing Pains

**Date: **Summer, 2000

**Rating:** T

**Genre: **Family/Fluff

* * *

_"How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being."_

_- Oscar Wilde_

* * *

"Ginevra Molly Potter, what in Merlin's name is that?"

The look Ginny bestowed upon Harry would have been immediate cause for a lesser, or perhaps a smarter, man to back down. Instead, Harry stood his ground, folding his arms as he reclined against the front door of their apartment, raising his eyebrows as he looked at the muddy, matted ball of fur, currently cleaning itself on top of the Quidditch robes he had left lying on the ground the night before.

"It's a kitten," Ginny explained, as if the answer were obvious. "And hello to you too, Harry James Potter."

"I know it's a kitten!" Harry exclaimed. "What I want to know is why it's lying on my Quidditch robes?"

"Because you left them on the ground when you got home from training last night, instead of banishing them to the laundry like I've asked you to do at least three thousand times," Ginny deadpanned.

"Merlin save me," Harry muttered under his breath. "Ginny..._why_ is there a kitten in our apartment?"

"He's our new pet," Ginny scooped the ball of fluff up from Harry's robes, cooing at it as she did so. "I've named him Dante."

"Funny, I don't remember discussing getting a new pet. Maybe I need to get the mediwizards at work to check me over for spell damage?" Harry's voice was heavily laden with sarcasm.

"I found him in the alley when I ducked out to the shops earlier," Ginny explained. "He was there all by himself, looking through the bins for food the poor little mite. I couldn't just leave him there Harry, he's only a baby!"

"I don't like cats," Harry sighed, knowing his protests were useless. If Ginny had named the creature, there would be no getting rid of it.

"You like Crookshanks well enough!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Crookshanks isn't exactly your normal cat though, is he? Sniffing out undercover Animagi and all," Harry looked at the downtrodden little creature in his wife's arms. "I can't see this one doing that."

"I'm going to clean him up," Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Come with mummy little man, I'll look after you, you're never going to be by yourself again Dante."

As Ginny left the room, the kitten over her shoulder, Harry would have sworn he saw the little bugger smirk at him.

* * *

Dante, as it turned out, was a long haired grey, with white socks and muzzle. Even Harry admitted he was rather cute as he frolicked around the living room, chasing things they couldn't see and occasionally stopping to scratch himself clumsily. Ginny was in raptures over her new baby and Harry was glad the kitten made her happy. Until that is, he made for bed that first evening.

Ginny had turned in some hours before, leaving Harry by the wireless, shouting occasional obscenities over the Tornados vs Cannons match currently underway. When Harry eventually gave up on his team in disgust, (cursing his best mate for ever introducing him to the agony of being a Cannons supporter), he was looking forward to nothing more than cuddling up naked in bed with his wife. He wouldn't wake Ginny of course, but, if she did happen to wake up, he had plenty of other sans-clothes activities in mind for them.

His wand clenched between his teeth, lit by _lumos_, Harry crept, rather noisily, into their small bedroom. Stripping off he rolled into bed, only to shoot up again as he lay upon something very furry, with very sharp claws.

"Merlin's hairy nutsack!" Harry exclaimed, massaging his arse and peering over his shoulder to search for claw marks on his posterior. "That bloody cat!"

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, woken by the commotion. "Look what you've done to poor little Dante!"

"Poor little Dante?" Harry questioned incredulously. "What about my arse?"

"You sat on him Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, nursing the crying kitten to her chest and curling a hand around him protectively. "Of course he had to protect himself!"

"I think my arse is bleeding Ginny," Harry was completely serious, and more than a little annoyed. "That...creature made my arse bleed! And now he's grinning at me!"

"The kitten is not grinning at you Harry," Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's probably afraid of you now. Aren't you sorry?"

"Of course I'm not bloody well sorry!" Harry shot incredulously. "Why is that thing in our bed anyway?"

"Where else is he meant to sleep?" Ginny asked.

"Oh I don't know, anywhere," Harry settled himself back onto the bed again, wincing as his behind made contact with the sheets. "He could sleep in the front hallway for example?"

"By himself?" Ginny was outraged. "Dante is sleeping right here with us Harry, where he belongs. With his mummy and daddy."

"I am not that evil creatures father."

"Be careful Harry Potter, or I'll find a new husband to be his pappi,"

"You are ridiculous Ginevra Potter," Harry sighed. "I think you've taken one to many falls off your broom at training."

"Goodnight Harry," Harry knew she was rolling her eyes at him again. "Please be careful of Dante tonight. I really don't want you to squash him in your sleep."

Harry gaped at her in the dark, unable to fathom a reply.

"Ginny," Harry said several minutes later, after neither of them had spoken. "Fancy kissing my arse better?"

"Harry," Ginny calmly replied in to the night. "Sod off."

* * *

Sleep did not come easily to Harry that night. His arse hurt, though it was his pride that hurt the most, as he silently glared at the little fluff ball tucked under his wife's arm.

"Cockblocking little rat," he hissed at it, before turning over and finally falling asleep.

He woke up some hours later to a wet nose and whiskers brushing against his face, before finally settling on his chest.

He woke again a few hours later, freezing cold and pushed to the point of falling from the bed. Beside him, Ginny and Dante were stretched comfortably across the bed, leaving him with negligible room and coverings.

Harry swore the cat winked at him.

At dawn, he woke to the sound of pitiful meowing.

"Shut that thing up," he moaned, burying his head beneath his pillow as the kitten self-importantly strutted between them, crying.

"He's hungry," Ginny replied groggily. "He doesn't understand we're asleep Harry."

"Not asleep," Harry grumbled. "House has been taken over by a needy ferret."

Giving up on achieving any more sleep, Harry swung out of bed. Dante's crying increased in volume as Harry padded towards the kitchen, stumbling over the kitten that weaved in and out of his legs.

"This apartment is not big enough for two adults, a bird and a kitten!" Harry exclaimed, as Ginny followed him out, pulling on her dressing gown.

"It's fine," Ginny smothered a yawn as she scooped Dante into her arms and nuzzled her face against his neck. "Did you enjoy the first night in your new house little man?"

"Bet he enjoyed it more than I did," Harry complained.

"Hush," Ginny instructed, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. "You can pretend to hate him all you want, you'll love him by weeks end."

"I'm going to shower," Harry grumbled, casting a wary eye at the kitten, which was busily purring against Ginny's chest. "Never thought I'd see the day when I was jealous of a cat."

The hot water of the shower was so relaxing that Harry felt himself being lulled to sleep. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage at work on such minimal rest, and thought to himself bitterly that if he was killed by a Dark Wizard because he'd fallen asleep on the job it would just about serve Ginny right.

"I promise to feel properly chastised if that happens," Ginny promised, as he warned her darkly of his premonition as he left for work. "I'll even mourn you a whole year before I find a richer, less-whiny husband."

Many hours later, when Ginny arrived home from work, it was to see her husband lying asleep on their sofa, Dante curled asleep on his chest, one of Harry's hands spread protectively across the kitten's downy back.

* * *

Despite his initial childishness, Harry soon found himself enjoying having a cat almost as much as Ginny did. However, as Dante grew, so to did Harry's frustration with the tiny apartment they were currently calling home.

"Ginny, we've got no reason to live here, all in on top of each other," Harry had sighed exasperatedly one night. "We can easily afford a _house_ wherever you want to buy."

"I like our apartment Harry," Ginny had responded. "Living in a cramped little apartment is _normal _for newlyweds."

"Since when have we ever done anything normally?" Harry sighed exasperatedly.

"Well don't you think it's time we started?" Ginny had shot back.

"Ginny, most people live in an apartment to begin with because they can't afford a house. We can!" Harry had taken her hand then and raised it to his lips. "There's not enough room here for us all love. Glaucus barely fits through the window anymore, we trip over Dante a dozen times a day and when Teddy comes to stay his cot hardly fits in our room. We could have a house, with some land and a little Quidditch pitch for you to practice on. I'm not asking anything else at the moment love, this isn't me wanting you to give up Quidditch and start having kids, I just don't want to fall on my arse every time I step somewhere without looking."

"You promise me a year," Ginny reminded him stubbornly. "A year in the apartment and then we'll go looking for a house with all those lovely empty bedrooms and a Quidditch pitch and the whole thing."

"I might not last until that year's up Ginny!" Harry had exclaimed. "Pretty soon the constant bruise on my arse is going to turn septic and I'm going to get a hideous infection and then I'm going to die."

"And if that happens I'll feel just awful," Ginny kissed him then. "You've only got another six months Potter, man up."

* * *

Harry heard it before he reached the front door. Instinctively, he pulled his wand at the sound of running feat, screams and objects falling over from inside the tiny apartment he shared with Ginny. He burst through the door with his wand held out in front of him and was greeted by –

Chaos.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to what he was truly seeing in front of him. Furniture was upended everywhere he could see, Ginny was running, chasing Teddy, who was flying around near the ceiling on his broomstick, and Ginny was being pursued by two cats.

Two?

Dante was there, yowling in his familiar fashion, scrambling over furniture as he went. Beside him, was a kitten in pure white, with only grey socks and muzzle, not quite keeping pace, but making a louder noise than Harry had ever heard from Dante, or in fact, any other feline he had ever come across.

Where the bloody hell had that creature come from?

"Harry!" Ginny squeaked, upon finally laying eyes on him. "It's erh...not as bad as it looks. Teddy and the cats just got a bit carried away."

"Cats?" Harry asked, his voice dangerously low as he emphasized the plural.

"That," Ginny said, pointing to the white kitten, who was currently attempting to climb the curtains in an attempt to reach Harry's Godson. "Is Maximus."

"And _why_," Harry asked. "Is Maximus in our house?"

"Because Kelly from the team's cat had kittens and she only had this one left and I thought that Dante might like a friend," Ginny shrugged and gave Harry her most winning smile. "Surprise."

Harry's mouth fell open as he heard his wife admit that she had adopted yet another animal. Surveying the disaster he looked at Ginny, who smiled back sheepishly.

"Harry..."

"Yes Ginny?"

"I've thought about it a lot and I think it might be time we brought a house of our own. Something with a bit more room, perhaps?"

* * *

_Something of a transitionary chapter for our newlyweds. Once again, rather pointless, but I had to share this with you all. Further, I have a confession to make; this chapter is taken directly, almost verbatim, from my real life. One of the only thing's I've changed is the name of the first kitten. Mine isn't named Dante, but I had to change it because mine was named from the Harry Potter universe and was entirely inappropriate for Harry and Ginny to name a pet. Anybody who can guess what my kitten's name is will get the next chapter a day earlier than I post it. Guess away! And yes, my second kitten is named Maximus. _

_I hate to admit this guys, but lately, I seem to have lost my inspiration for writing Harry/Ginny. I'm not entirely sure what has changed, but my motivation for writing them at the moment seems to be almost non-existent. Please don't worry though, I fully intend to finish this story exactly the way I originally intended it to be. Updates may be somewhat more sporadic, and chapters potentially shorter, but the story will be told. In the meantime, your words of encouragement and support are, quite literally, the only thing that motivates me to write. If it wasn't for those of you that review, I think I'd have called it quits after the wedding chapter. __Thank you__ to those that review, I literally couldn't do this without you._

_SR. _


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